Last Hope
by Rachel975
Summary: Christian Grey is a struggling to pay his bills and keep his family together. Ana Steele has never experienced anything other than wealth and comfort with a life paved out for her as a trophy wife. The pair befriend each other, and try to ignore their mutual feelings as they try to find something more in their lives and make something of themselves outside of what's expected.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Well, I'm going to be a complete cop-out this year and write fanfic for NaNoWriMo, which means beginning anew with this. I'll still be updating my other fic, but a lot less regularly. This one (unless I drop out of the competition) will be updated with around 2000 words daily, possibly more.

This is going to be totally different to my other fic, in that it's not really planned, although I have a vague idea where I'm headed in that I wrote a bit from near the end and I'd like to somehow get there. Ana is going to be pretty close to canon, a little more sarcastic and able to speak up for herself but sweet and actually nice, but Christian is going to be very different, although still alike in a lot of aspects, good and bad. I don't know if this is something people will be interested in, but I've been planning something along these lines for ages and I've really enjoyed writing it today!

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><p><strong>CHRISTIAN<strong>

She's not the kind of person that should be somewhere like this.

The rich kind, especially the girls, they always send staff to bring their vehicles in to the garage for us to fix and turn up last minute and give the place a disdainful look before they speed off in their unnecessarily expensive, newly fixed cars without so much as a thank you. I never know why most of them bother to get them fixed. They might as well buy a new one; it probably wouldn't make much difference to these people.

Not her.

She drove her car in a couple of days ago, a shiny black Mercedes like so many of them have, and gave me a smile as she explained what was wrong. She was very polite over the phone when I told her it was fixed, whereas so many of them seem annoyed that they have to expend their precious energy coming to get their cars.

It's a hot day, fairly unusually for Seattle in September. I bet she rolls the top of her car down on the way home and then complains about her hair later.

"Thank you!" she says as I hand her keys to her. "I hope it wasn't too much bother to fix." I swear she's so polite that I wouldn't know she was rich if it wasn't for the car and how many diamonds she was wearing. "I'm just glad to get it back, I hate having to get driven around by other people, so I've been walking most of this week."

"Mine breaks down every couple of days. I know the feeling." She laughs, seemingly genuinely. Her baby blue eyes light up. I'm inherently suspicious of her motives. No-one who comes in here is a nice person.

"You work with cars. Could you not just make it never break again?"

"Sure, if I was a wizard."

"Not possible?"

"Nope, not even with a good car like yours. Mine's a piece of shit really." She doesn't look offended by the blunt language, so I don't worry about it.

"So was mine. My first one, I mean, I didn't just magically make it shiny and faster, obviously. I wanted to buy my first one myself, so I bought it second-hand like a normal teenager, saved like crazy for it too from this waitressing job, not that Mom and Dad could understand why I bothered with that, but it broke down completely after a couple of years – I suspect sabotage on their parts, not that I'd say anything of the sort – and caved. It's a good car, mind, I probably should have just said yes to them getting it in the first place. This is the first time it's broken down at all in nearly two years." She talks a lot. Oddly I find it endearing rather than completely annoying.

"They're good when it comes to fixing them. Never too much of a challenge." Nor would you expect them to be at the ridiculously high price I know they're sold for, but I say nothing like that to her. It sounds spiteful.

"Well thank you again. Even if it was easy." She smiles and looks up at the clock. "Crap, I have to get home, I have a bachelorette party this evening p dull as hell I suppose, but I promised I'd make the effort to go, so I suppose I'm committed now. Have a good day!"

"Yeah, you too." I find myself saying. She grins as she gracefully enters the car.

She does roll the top down, but she also puts on some genuinely decent rock music before she leaves, which redeems her a little.

"She's not our usual. Less pumpkin spice latte and Instagram, if you know what I mean." I don't but I nod like I do. It's probably an expression he's picked up off Laura, she's always making shit like that up. "Shame your sorry ass got to her first. She deserved someone who would have given her a full service."

"Fuck off, Elliot." I tell my brother, and unfortunately, as of last week, co-worker. He just grins and stuffs another handful of Cheetos in to his mouth. "You're such a fucking pig. She would never look at either of us twice, especially not you. Anyway, I'm telling Laura when I see her tonight what you said about her. I'm sure she'll be really pleased."

"Hurtful, bro." He says with a grin, not even pretending to look offended. I roll my eyes. "So does mystery girl have a name?"

"I never asked." I know it begins with 'A' because she had one of those little letter key rings, but I don't say that. It feels a little stalker-ish.

"Ah well. Plenty more girls to bang out there."

"What a charming philosophy."

I'm putting up with Elliot a lot more than usual recently. Considering he just got laid off from his decent job and had to pick up something here, I figure he's getting enough crap from his wife right now that he shouldn't have to deal with anything much from me too. She's trying to be supportive, but it means once again they have to put off having a kid because they don't have enough money, and I know she hates that.

That doesn't stop him from being an irritating little shit though.

It's not too badly paid here actually. Between this and the bartending job I only do when they need cover I have enough to cover the bills, give some to Dad for paying for Mom's treatment even though he hates taking it, and pay for the house that I share with my little sister Mia. Well, I say share. I mean I put her up free of charge because she's trying to get through college and Mom and Dad can't afford to look after her any more, not with how sick Mom is. Neither can I really, but I want her prospects to be a little brighter than mine. We clubbed together all the savings we both had, plus a loan, and managed to get her in. She's a bright girl. She deserves not to be stuck at the bottom of the pile like the rest of us.

"Turn that shit down!" Elliot yelled suddenly. I am aware it is not being directed at me, rather at our co-worker Lena, our boss' daughter who turned out to be a lot better at fixing cars than anyone ever thought she would be. However, while very capable as a mechanic, Lena insists on blasting out God-awful pop music while she works. I'm used to it because I've been working with her since I started, but Elliot's new, and he hasn't learned to tune it out. He will. Lena's pretty bad when it comes to remembering the rest of us aren't deaf in one ear like she is. They'd had this discussion when he arrived and it made no difference. I just ignore them as they argue, mostly in good humour, as best I can and decide to get back to fixing the car in front of me, which I was working on before the girl arrived. The one that probably cost the owner more than I make in a year.

I like what I do. It might be one of those manual jobs that they warn you at school to work hard so you avoid, but it's what I'm good at. I'd rather be working with my hands than stuck in some shitty office job like Elliot used to have.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you!" I hear Lena yell back at Elliot. I smirk, knowing full well she did hear him as she turns the music up a few notches. My brother swears loudly and goes over to switch it off himself. She keeps waiting until he walks away and turning it up again. I sigh. The motorbike she's working is never going to get finished is this carries on.

The whole garage is bathed in a pre-sunset orange glow which makes my head hurt. At one time I might have thought what a beautiful sunset it would be and blow off my other job or dinner with Mia or whatever I was doing that night in favour of jumping in my shitty car, which despite being a mechanic I never seem to be able to get the dent out of, and go and take pictures of it to paint later. Now, I can't afford to miss shifts at the low paying bar he had picked up his second job in, I felt too bad refusing dinner when people went to the trouble of cooking it for me, and even if I could, so much of my money goes towards Mia and my Mom that I barely have enough to pay the gas bills. Being dirt poor is a bitch.

I don't even like painting anymore. It was just a way I used to kid myself that there was something else out there.

"I'm taking off!" I yell back in to the garage as I search one of the benches for my car keys before I can allow my mind to wander any further.

"Have a nice evening!" Lena yells back at me. Neither her nor Elliot, or me actually, knows how to use an inside voice, because most of the time there are machines going that we need to shout over, and when there aren't our ears are still ringing from them.

I go home to collect Mia. Elliot has the two of us over for dinner every Friday, which was probably originally his wife Laura's suggestion rather than his. She seems in a better mood today than she was last week.

Elliot might flirt a lot and joke about other women, but anyone who sees him with her instantly knows that he's not interested in anyone else.

"How was work?" Laura asks me pleasantly as she dishes out the lasagne she's made - Mia's favourite I remember with a smile as I watch her tuck in to it. This is pretty much the only hearty meal we have in any given week, mostly because neither of us has time to cook with my working and her being in classes, and we tend to help ourselves to thirds whenever we're over here.

"Good." I reply. Laura smiles softly and pushes her blonde hair out of her eyes.

"He was too busy thinking about this girl that came in to do much work. She came in early this afternoon, dude was useless from about that point onwards." Elliot butts in, and I glare at him. Laura rolls her eyes at her husband - general exasperation with him is something we have in common. Mia giggles.

"Was she pretty?" Mia asks interestedly.

"Does it matter? We had the briefest of conversations, that was it. I'm not going to see her again. Drop the subject now please." We've already talked about it enough for my liking, but my reluctance only serves to spur Elliot on. I'll add this conversation to the growing list of reasons I want to punch him in the face.

"He's getting all defensive because he likes her." Elliot chides gleefully.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole." They all start laughing, and despite myself I join in. "She was just nice. Not a lot of nice people around, especially not where I work."

"Language!" Laura chides, grinning and not meaning it in the slightest. "Hopefully her car will break down again and she'll be back soon."

"No way. Twenty bucks says you never see her again.

"And how on Earth are we going to establish you winning that bet?"

"Good point. Okay, we'll say… Not for like, a year at least."

"Make it fifty and I'm in."

"Deal."

"By which I assume you mean you'll have it marked on the calendar for if you win, but that if I win you'll pretend to have forgotten all about it and get Laura to lie for you too?" He nods and Laura shrugs.

"That's how life works." she tells me with a wink.

"It is when you have this idiot for a brother." I say, shaking my head. He grins widely, revealing a mouth full of food. I grimace.

"Elliot!" Laura scolds him.

Sometimes I think it's for the best that they don't have kids. Laura would be a great Mom, obviously, but Elliot might be a little more questionable. God knows what any child of his would turn out like. I'm not sure any of us should be encouraging him to further his DNA. The line of idiots should end with him. Laura's an intelligent woman though, hopefully she's at least somewhat balance it out. Still, it'd be nice if they did.

With Mia being a future career girl who has proclaimed that she will 'never ever' get married and my perpetual lack of love life, I think Mom at least would rather he had a kid sooner rather than later. I know she wants to see her grandchildren.

We don't mention it but it's there. The fact that she won't be with us much longer hangs over all of our heads now. Dad can ignore it because he sees her every day. There's no dramatic declination in her health when he sees her, but I only see her every couple of weeks. It's still not a long time, but it's far easier to notice.

"So?" Mia asks me in the car after we leave. "Was she pretty?"

"Stunning."

Mia smiles knowingly, and I spend the rest of the drive and most of the evening trying and failing to put her to the back of my mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**ANA**

I try to feign a smile as Kate shows me the diamond resting on her finger for the millionth time tonight. I thought a bachelorette party wasn't going to be my thing because it would be rowdy and I'm such an introvert, but it turned out that it wasn't my thing because it was just plain dull. All her family came, and her fiancé, then the six of us, 'the girls' as everyone refers to us which serves to irritate me for no reason, all went out to a club, but there was never much chance of things getting out of hand with a few expensive drinks in the VIP lounge of some club I haven't heard of.

"You're the last one of us, Ana!" Kate says, looking genuinely sympathetic. As she waves her ring in my face. Yes, poor little me, the only one without a rock on her finger of the six of us, and incidentally, the only one who doesn't care.

"It won't be long." Maria assures me. She'll be adding a band, probably platinum because it's so much classier than gold, as I keep being told, to the diamond on her finger in just under two weeks, and she's very excited, even though both she and her fiancé have slept with the same secretary at his law firm. I met her. She seemed a much better choice for Maria, but no-one asked me.

"Yes, sweetheart, Robert will propose soon enough." Jeanette tells me, sounding eerily like my mother. She was the first of us to get married, and is looked on by everyone in the group apart from me as the gospel on a successful marriage, and to be fair, hers is. She got lucky. She found someone well off that her parents approved of, and she actually liked him.

"Although, you have that book deal in the bag. Soon you might not even need Robert. You could make it on your own." Isobel says. I smile warmly at her. No-one says anything, they just give her looks of distaste. She's on her second engagement in as many years, and that to them says she simply has too much choice in her marriage. She still doesn't even like this one, she simply left the first because this one had more money and a private plane. 'If you're marrying for money, at least do it properly' I remember she said to me once. I feel like this was advice which will be best left ignored. She gets invited to a lot less group events than she used to now.

"I bet he picks a wonderful ring for you." Lillian says with a grin. Lilly is the only one of us with children and probably puts up the best front about her marriage but it's like with Maria – I learn things because I'm quiet. I know her husband is sleeping with their next door neighbour Mitch, and I know that her two children both have different fathers, and that neither of them come from her husband.

Yes. Looking at them and their rings does not make me want to force Robert at gunpoint down on to one knee. It makes me want to make something of myself so I never have to endure what they do on a daily basis.

I haven't seen Kate and her fiancé together enough to make a judgement. I know she pushed him in to proposing a lot sooner than he might have liked, but then again so did most of my friends and I also think they seem happy together. Kate's my best friend. I want her to be happy and have a marriage like Jeanette or like those ones in the romantic films I secretly watch when I'm alone. I'm just not sure I believe things like that happen in real life. I used to as a kid, but then I got older and realised that maybe the perfect world I grew up in had a lot more cracks than I thought it did.

I keep thinking that a life with Robert might not be so bad and then realising that I should probably be setting my sights a little higher than 'not so bad'. I mean Robert's great but he's almost twice my age and we have very little in common, and he has no sense of humour, which is of course key in anyone I might subject myself to spending the rest of my life with. Of course my parents don't care about that. They just see that he's a very well off surgeon and don't think I need anything else.

"You'd never have to work a day in your life if you married him, Anastasia!" My mother had gushed after she and my father came for dinner at his house. I just smiled. Being seen and not heard is something I'm good at. There are very few people who I share my opinions with, and fewer that I can have an honest conversation with.

That's why I like talking to strangers, people like shop assistants who other people probably treat like crap most of the time. You can have a two minute conversation and be completely blunt. Chances are that you're never going to see them again. Why waste time keeping up a pretence?

Take the guy who fixed my car today. The one with the gorgeous grey eyes that glinted in the sun when he smiled. The one I can't push out of my mind. I like talking to people like him. He didn't even seem to mind my rambling, something I have a tendency towards doing when I finally allow myself to speak my mind and not just say what I think I'm supposed to in any given situation.

Thinking about it now, it's a shame that I'm never going to see him again. I think I might have liked to.

He made me laugh.

"Ana!" Kate yells, snapping me out of my daydream. "Are you with us? You look totally spaced out this evening."

"Probably thinking about that proposal now we've baited her with the thought." I don't know which of them speaks, and to be perfectly honest, I don't care. I adore my friends most of them time, but get them on a topic like this and they're pretty much interchangeable and indistinguishable from each other. "Better call Robert and tell him to watch out!" They all laugh, and suddenly, I really don't want to be there anymore.

"I don't feel well, Katie." I use her childhood nickname for effect, and from the look of sympathy in her eyes I can tell it works. Hell, if the author thing goes down the drain I might have a career built for me in acting. "I think I might go home, if it doesn't bother you too much."

"Of course, sweetie." she says kindly, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. It's less reassuring now I can feel the cold metal on her finger digging in to my skin as she does so. "Are you okay to get there, or do you need one of us to walk you out." All eyes turn to Isobel. She has to do the dirty work now if she doesn't want to be pushed out forever.

"No, please, I'll be fine. Enjoy yourselves."

I hear something as I walk away about how I'm probably just feeling left out because of my lack of proposal. I'm not annoyed; in fact, I'm struggling pretty hard not to laugh.

As I get in to my newly fixed car I think about that man I met again and smile to myself, imagining how mad everyone would go if I decided to marry someone like him. I think it might be quite nice, actually, a marriage with no motive other than love. Completely fictional, I think, but I decide to use that to give me strength next time they talk about it.

On my drive home I remember that I need to get groceries and stop at the all-night store, pulling in next to a run-down car that makes mine stand out like a sore thumb. Paranoid as I've been taught to be about having it stolen or at the very least broken in to, I always keep half an eye on it in places like this.

My mother keeps telling me I need a house keeper to do things like shopping for me, but I like doing it myself. It gets me out of the apartment. It's easy to get stuck in there for weeks at a time, especially when I'm writing, but the need to buy basic things, and tea, especially tea, gets me up and out of there.

I pack my kart full of stuff she would disapprove of, like pop tarts and red velvet cupcakes, all the necessary food items to get me through a weekend of writing before that meeting I have on Monday to finalise the publishing of my book. This weekend is being used as my last editing time, and I refuse to contact anyone and have warned people that I won't be reachable. I told my parents I was going out of town.

For all his shortcomings at least Robert's supportive about what I want to do. They just laugh about my little 'hobby' and I try not to show them just how badly that gets to me. Showing a weakness, particularly in front of my mother, is not something anyone wants to do. She will remember and she will take every opportunity to beat it out of you, and if she can't then she'll just play on it.

She's never really been the nicest of women.

I worry that I might have turned out like her had my upbringing not been left solely to my nanny, Tabitha. I must go and visit her soon, thinking about it. It's been too long since I did, and I don't like to go more than a couple of months without seeing her. Her son died in the army a few years ago, and she likes being surrounded by people to help her forget that he's not there anymore.

I'm unloading things on to the checkout as I think when I see the guy at the next checkout, all chiselled muscles and copper hair, and grey eyes, looking like he's daydreaming just as much as I was a second ago. I take a moment to admire him again and thank the universe for how quickly it reunited us.

"Hey!" I call over before I can stop myself. He's basically the only other person there, but he looks around as if to see if it was someone else being called on before he sees me.

"Hi." he says, with a charming grin that can only be described as drop-dead fucking gorgeous. "Small world."

"Yeah, I guess so." And I am so happy it is.

"How's the car?" he asks before I have the chance to say anything else. I was going to of course because I was never just going to say 'hi' and leave. What a wasted opportunity that would have been.

"Amazing. I don't think it even ran this smoothly when I got it." It's true. He's worked wonders on it. "Thank you again, you did an incredible job."

"My pleasure." There's that grin again. Damn, he's disarming, and what's worse is that the smile he wears is so self-assured, I think he knows it. It's infuriatingly hot. "What happened to the bachelorette party? It's only ten thirty." I mentally squeal at the fact he remembered something I mentioned in passing. I'm definitely reading too much in to it, but I like that he remembered something.

"Oh, I came away early. It wasn't really my scene. Just a load of girls telling me to get married already."

"Is buying that much junk food more your scene then?" I can tell he's teasing me, and I blush automatically, biting my lip. I try to tell myself to get a grip, but I've never been the most smooth of individuals when it comes to anyone attractive. I look over to his checkout, which similarly to mine consists of the bare essentials plus ridiculous amounts of junk food.

"Apparently it's yours as well. I'm locking myself in all weekend to write, what's your excuse?" I mentally cheer myself on for managing to form a coherent response.

"It's not for me. I've been given a very specific shopping list by my sister. She's craving anything with sugar and lots of carbs right now apparently so I have to buy three cakes and most of the cookies in this store."

"Smart girl, making you come instead of her."

"She's studying, which is usually code for watching something with some hot actor in it on Netflix, but I don't mind. It's nice to get out of the house, even if it is just to come to the store." I smile brightly at him.

"That's exactly what I say about it."

I pay and pick up my bags and politely wait for him to finish having his items scanned. Walking off would be rude, I reason, and besides, I don't want to. He's nice. I like having someone to talk to. He's a refreshingly stark contrast to everyone I've spent the evening with.

"Can I take one of your bags for you?" he offers. I smile and shake my head.

"Thank you for the offer, but they're light. It doesn't make much difference if you take one off my hands. Besides, you might run away with my cupcakes, and then I'd have nothing to eat all weekend."

His car is the one parked next to mine. We say goodbye, and as I drive off in the opposite direction to him, back in to town rather than out of it, I'm annoyed that I didn't get his name and feeling slightly guilty for finding him so attractive when, until I get up the courage to break up with Robert, I'm still with someone else.

Monday, I promise myself. Monday, I'll have my meeting, get my book deal, and break up with him. It's not fair at all to lead him on.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHRISTIAN**

When I get home I go straight in to the kitchen and make two cups of coffee, one for myself and one for Mia, and take one of the packets of cookies out of the bag for her.

Our house is all set out on one floor. It's pretty barren apart from the few mismatched pieces of second-hand furniture around. Mia's room is the nicest. I tried to make it look good for her so that she didn't feel too bad about not flat sharing with her friend like she wanted to. She seems to like it well enough.

I can hear soft classical music playing from her room, a sign that she actually is studying. She hates silence but anything she can sing along to distracts her. I knock before I go in.

Mia lies on her stomach, feet at the top of the bed, surrounded by books. She's taking pharmaceutical chemistry, and I still have no idea how she can force herself to remember all those formulas. If I even look at her books in passing then I feel like my head is going to explode. She not only seems to understand it but actually enjoys it. Mom especially is so proud of her. I really hope she gets to see her graduate.

"Hey Mia." she looks up and beams at me as I put the mug of coffee down on her bedside table. "How's it going?"

"Pretty well. I'd explain what I'm doing if I didn't know it would be a waste of breath and go right over your head." I know she's teasing me, but it's true. "Did you manage to get everything on the list?" she asks as she clocks the cookies I'm holding. I smile and throw them so they land next to her on the bed, and shake my head as she tears in to them and shoves two in her mouth at the same time.

"Yeah, the rest is in the kitchen."

"You're the best!" she clamours, mouth still full of cookies.

"God, you and Elliot have no social graces whatsoever." I sigh. She finishes her mouth full and laughs.

"Which we more than make up for with our sparkling personalities, right?"

"Sure. I'm not sure what you're defining 'sparkling' as there, but I can't be bothered to argue with you."

"That's very unusual. Everything okay?"

"Everything's great." She looks very suspicious. Even if she wasn't some genius scientist, she's always been worryingly good at reading people, especially me and Elliot. She knew he was going to marry Laura before he even knew he was in love with her. She knows us better than we know ourselves.

"It's no use keeping secrets from me, Christian, spill."

"It's not a big deal, I just saw that girl Elliot insisted on telling you all about earlier at the checkout." Mia squeals and nearly blows out my eardrums. "Jesus, Mia, could you be any louder about that."

"Oh please tell me you spoke to her. Name, number, date set up for tomorrow evening perhaps?"

"No, nothing of the sort. She said hi, we compared how much junk food we were both buying and then we went our separate ways. I didn't get her number, we're never going to meet again, and no, I still don't know her name. I'm just glad you didn't come with me, I can just see how that would have gone."

"Did you make a total idiot of yourself like usual?"

"How would you know whether or not I usually make an idiot of myself around women?" She shrugs.

"You've been single forever. All my friends are always bleating on about how attractive you are so that can't be because women find you totally unappealing, ergo you must continuously make an idiot of yourself in front of them." she reasons before leaning over to the bedside table and retrieving her mug, taking a long sip of the coffee.

"Sounds logical." I don't confirm or deny her suspicions. I'm glad she's wrong about that though. It's nice that she doesn't know every little detail about me. "Look, I'll leave you in peace, I know you've got to study for that test on Monday." Mia scowls.

"Don't remind me. Are you heading to bed?"

"Yeah, in a little while." She smiles at me and gets up to turn her music down. We have shitty, thin walls, but luckily she's pretty considerate when it comes to how loud she has her music or her shows. "Remember to actually sleep this time, please. Last time you had a test you turned in to a coffee zombie and then slept for two days after, and that while it was fun to watch and take videos of at the time, I really don't want to have to go through that again." She rolls her eyes but give me a hug anyway.

"Okay, I promise, just another hour or two." It will be past one am by then, but Mia usually goes to sleep pretty late, so I'm not too worried about that. "Are you going to see Mom and Dad tomorrow?" she asks suddenly, looking like she's just remembered to. I nod.

"Yeah, but you don't have to. She understands that you're busy."

"I'm not Elliot. I'm not going to make excuses so I don't have to see her. It's difficult but she needs us there right now."

Mia has made no secret of her disapproval that Elliot keeps avoiding going to see Mom. Apparently her being sick is just too much for him. He says that he wouldn't even know what to say to her if he did. That annoys Mia. She always asks him why seeing her should be any different to when she was well. He never has an answer, and then she gets angry about how, when someone has limited time left you shouldn't actively avoid trying to spend time with them, that you should try to be by their side as much as possible and cherish the time you have left with them. Then she refuses to see him for a couple of weeks. I usually just try to actively discourage these types of conversations between them. I don't need my family to be any more uneasy that it already is.

"Okay, I'll wake you at nine so we can get going and spend most of the day there. You can take your books if you like, I'm sure she won't mind if you camp out in one of the bedrooms and study every couple of hours for a while. She'll just be glad you're there."

"That's a good idea." She sounds surprised.

"Gets some sleep." I warn her again. "Mom will not be happy if you've stayed up all night." She'll probably be more annoyed at me for letting it happen actually.

"Don't forget to remind Elliot that he owes you fifty dollars!" she calls after me as I leave her room. I smile to myself and shut the door. I think I might let that bet slide.

Car journeys with Mia are usually something to be feared as she always wants to talk about something boring, usually some celebrity crush or the latest drama amongst her friends, but today she holes herself up in the backseat with all her text books and puts her headphones in so I can listen to whatever I like on the radio. It's funny, I almost miss her making me take the stupid quizzes in the magazines she's too old to be reading and telling me which of her friends she wouldn't mind if I dated. Almost. Not quite.

Mom doesn't look too bad today. She looks tired, but she's always tired these days. Her hair is starting to come back in. It's thin and grey but at least it's there. She's walking okay today and she doesn't need have her breathing apparatus on all the time. It's quite relieving. She's pleased to see us, as she always is, and hurries us in.

"Good. I'm doing well today." Mom replies when I ask her how she is. "Actually I've been doing pretty good most of this week. Your father's happier with my progress than I am." Mia squeezes the hand of hers that she's been holding since the two of us arrived.

"Where is Dad?"

"Oh, he's still asleep. I told him he needed to get up early last night, but I thought I should just leave him. I hope the two of you don't mind. He's had to work a lot this week, picking up extra late shifts, so I thought he might as well use his day off to catch up on sleep. If you two need to go home early though I can wake him up and make sure he sees you before you go off."

"No, we can spend the day here, right Christian?" Mia asks me. I nod.

"Of course we can. I'll make dinner for everyone if you'd like me to." They both smile very brightly at me.

"That's very sweet of you, but you don't have to."

"It's fine. I'd like to, I never really cook anymore, and it'd be nice."

Mom goes to respond but starts coughing suddenly. Mia pats her gently on the back and lets go of her hand to put her arm around her. I get up quickly and go to the kitchen to get her a glass of water. If Dad was down here then he'd rest a hand on her knee sympathetically but wouldn't say anything. It's standard routine now. We all know ours jobs; things like this happen often enough now.

About three years ago now, Mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. They treated it, took out part of her lung, put her through chemotherapy and gave her the all clear. Then a few months ago she started having breathing problems again. We all hoped it was something else, but it wasn't. It had come back, more aggressive this time, and it had spread all over. All the doctors can do is buy her a little longer with treatments that make her sicker and cost a fortune, but we do it because none of us are ready to lose her yet. We never will be. She likes to joke, to say at least she didn't turn to cooking meth in order to pay her bills, but damn if it wasn't horribly close to that. It's not been an easy few months.

Elliot doesn't make it better by refusing to see her.

I take her the water in and rest my hand on her shoulder. Her hand comes up to meet mine and she brings it to her lips, kissing it softly.

"You two are so good to me, you know." she tells us after taking a sip of the water. Mia smiles at her, but it's broken and she looks very close to tears.

"We're just doing what we can, Mom."

Mia stays with us a little while before she excuses herself to go study. Dad comes down just as she's leaving the room and she gives him a tight hug before bounding her way upstairs. Mom goes up for a rest mid-afternoon, and I start on dinner while Dad watches some sport I don't care about on the TV, making irritated remarks about the players every so often to me which go right over my head. I just nod and agree with him.

Mia comes down and jokes about what a 'domestic goddess' I am and takes pictures to show Elliot. I threaten to cook her phone instead of the chicken. When Mom comes down and sits in the kitchen, rolling her eyes along with me and Mia every time Dad shouts at the TV, it almost feels like normal.

"Elliot couldn't come?" Mom asks me as she sets the table. Mia and I look at each other. She's trying to sound casual about it, but it just comes out sad and lost. It breaks my heart, and I want to punch Elliot for being such a dick about everything.

"Next time." I'll drag him round by the ear if he tries to wiggle his way out of that.

"So Mom, did I tell you that Christian is super hung up on this girl he barely knows?" Mia asks her, both succeeding in changing the subject to something a little lighter and irritating me in the process. Mom looks delighted.

"Oh really? Where did you meet her?"

"At work, not that it's important. She just brought her car in, then we met that evening at the grocery store. I don't even know her name."

"What was the word you used to describe her? Stunning! That was it." Mia says as though I hadn't spoken. When Mom turns towards the sink to pour out the water, I mime stabbing Mia with the knife I'm holding. She just laughs. "It's basically fated to be since they met twice in one day, right?"

"Maybe. You just have to hope you see her again." Mom says with a knowing smile.

"Look, I'm sorry to disappoint you both, but we barely spoke. I couldn't care less if I never see her again." That's a lie. Actually, I'd really like to see her again. She's amusing and interesting and I liked talking to her. And yeah, the fact that she's gorgeous helps, with those deeply knowing light blue eyes in contrast to her dark hair. I never will though, that second time was pure coincidence. "Fate doesn't exist anyway. You see hundreds of people around here every day, it just so happened that I saw her twice."

"Fate!" Mia and Mom insist at the same time. I shake my head and call Dad in for dinner, refusing to say another word about it.


	4. Chapter 4

**ANA**

I spend the weekend editing my book. I barely leave my desk and eat more rubbish that I ever thought possible and by Sunday at 11:09pm I have finally finished it to the best of my ability. It is by no means perfect, but I'm proud of what I've written, and that is the point. I'm still terrified to go in to a meeting where I have to talk about it and let a room of strangers read it and decide its future, but I hope I've done all I can to guarantee the success of it.

Incredibly, they seem to really like me. They seem interested in the plot and all of them liked the plot, bar one who said that it just wasn't her type of thing, but commended my writing style and wished me success. I come out feeling really good about myself.

After the genuinely astonishing success of the meeting about my book on Monday morning, I face something altogether more terrifying – dinner with my parents. I haven't actually told them about the meeting I had today, mostly because they're not going to care if I do. I was planning on using tonight to break up with Robert, but that'll have to wait since he was the one who conveniently managed to get us both invited. I swear he did it on purpose, but I think that's probably just paranoia and general exasperation talking.

I dress formally, all in black apart from my red coat - necessary because the weather has reverted back to normal and it's now on par with the Arctic outside - so my mother can't make comments on how living alone has made me sloppy about my appearance which generally translates to: 'Marry Robert and move in with him, then you'll have to look good all the time because you'll have nothing to do but clothes shopping and looking pretty for him'.

"Anastasia, darling, you're late." comes the slightly annoyed greeting I get from my mother. "Robert's already here, come in now, quickly." She takes my coat before she starts fussing over my hair being out of place. I sigh. I don't have the energy to stop her.

I walk in to the living room and greet my father before taking the seat I'm expected to next to Robert.

"How did it go?" he asks me quietly. For all his shortcomings, at least he's both interested and supportive as I try to forge my career as an author.

"Really well." I reply. I can say no more as my mother brings me over a glass of champagne. She insists that any time Robert joins us for dinner warrants her opening a very expensive bottle of it, something which annoys me and makes him uncomfortable. His parents are a lot less… How to put this nicely? Involved! Yes, his parents are a lot less involved in his life than mine are in my life.

"To the both of you!" she announces. It makes me shift uncomfortably in my seat, but he smiles and kisses me softly, something with just makes me feel more uneasy, especially in front of my parents. However, I raise my glass and clink it together with the others. My father isn't drinking champagne, nor is he joining in the conversation. It's a fairly standard evening. I wish I had a brother or sister to make this more bearable, although there's always the chance that if I did have one then they would have turned out exactly like my parents.

When we eventually go in to the dining room for dinner we are served something pretentious that tastes of nothing that my parents and Robert keep commending. Our poor chef probably spent more of the day working out what my mother wanted her to cook than she did actually cooking it, and I'm sure she stood over her for hours making sure she did it exactly right even though she herself wouldn't know the oven from a bag of flour.

After dinner I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, taking my make-up bag out of my purse which is hung at the door before I go in. I have to keep myself looking like perfect marriage material, right?

After I'm done ensuring I look as perfect as I can, I go back and return my make-up bag to my purse before going back in to my personal hell.

Something stops me.

I've turned and I just catch it in the corner of my eye but it's enough to halt me and make me pivot on my heel. It's hidden behind a picture frame of my parents looking important next to the president a few years ago. I take a moment to be annoyed that none of the pictures in our house feature anything but us with important people before I reach behind and take out what's there.

Yeah. That's an engagement ring.

I can tell from just the box, but I open it just to be sure. It might as well be Kate's it's so identical, with an almost gaudily large diamond. It must have cost more than most people's houses do. It's ridiculous and so utterly wrong for me. I snap the lid shut and put it bag, grab my bag and go back in to the bathroom. I dial the first number that comes to mind, Isobel, who's so eager to get back in any of the groups good graces that she'll pretty much do anything.

"Isobel?" I say as quietly as I can when she answers. "Please don't ask why, but I need to get away from my parents' house and I can't just run off and they won't let me leave, so I need you to invent a tragedy and make it sound convincing when I put you on the phone to my Mom, because that's the only way I'm going to pull this off."

"Jeez, umm, okay, hold on, tragedy… Okay, yeah, I can do that."

"You're the best!" I'll have to make sure she gets invited to the next boring event she would have been excluded from as a thank you.

I go out and walk in to the living room, look of feigned horror painted on my face.

"No!" I exclaim, so that the three of them look at me. "Oh God, Izzie, that's so awful!" I make my eyes a little teary for effect. They all look at least slightly concerned. "Well I can't really come over right now, I'm with Robert at my parents' house. Could you not call Kate? Well, okay, let me talk to them." I turn to my mother.

"Isobel's having a crisis right now, she wants me to go over." I say with a sigh, like the very notion exasperates me.

"Well you can't!" I bet Robert told her he was proposing. No way she's letting me out of that house without a fight.

"You tell her that then, because I can't, she'll think I'm just making it up so I don't have to go!" I tell her in a harsh whisper. My mother sighs and motions for me to hand her over the phone.

"Isobel, dear, it's Carla, what's wrong?" She actually sounds caring. There is the mystery of where I got my acting abilities from completely sorted.

To her credit, Isobel plays her part impeccably. I can't hear what she says, only the hysterical sobbing she pretends to burst in to every few words. My mother grows to look more and more frustrated before she hands me the phone back and sighs in defeat.

"You're going to have to go over, she's in such a state. Honestly, you'd think she'd be able to hold it together in a little more dignified a fashion, but no. This is exactly why her first engagement was broken off, I'm absolutely sure of it." she announces. My father looks rather blasé about the whole affair. Robert looks as defeated as my mother. I almost feel bad about leaving.

"I'll be over in half an hour. Hold it together until then, sweetie." I tell Isobel. I say goodbye very quietly and grab my coat and bag and am out the door. I wait until I am in my car before I speak again. "You're fantastic, Isobel, really you are. Thank you for that."

"No problem. It was actually kind of fun."

"I was trying not to laugh the entire time, I totally thought she was just going to put the phone down."

"Every time I thought she might I pretended to cry again." I laugh loudly.

"I'll call you later, or maybe tomorrow actually, I better drive off before they get suspicious. Hope I didn't disturb your evening too much." I pause for a second, thinking, before I add. "Don't tell the others about this. This has to be our little secret, okay?"

"Sure, whatever you want, Ana. Speak soon!"

I put the phone in my bag and I'm speeding away like I really do have someone in crisis that I need to get to as fast as I can.

Maybe it's awful to run off like that, but I was planning on breaking up with Robert, not signing on to spending the rest of my life with him. Whatever riot it would have caused among my parents aside, saying no to him in front of them would have been embarrassing and slightly cruel, and saying yes for their benefit and then taking it back later is crueller still. Like it or not, a fake crisis was the only way to get out of that one. We can talk about it properly if he insists on really proposing to me and establish why it's not a good idea, but that's not a conversation we could ever have with my mother butting in with killer phrases such as 'but he's rich and successful' and 'you'll be an old maid at this rate – twenty one and unmarried, whoever heard of such a thing'. The only reason he could have ever thought it was a good idea was that he just assumed I'd say yes. The assumption irks me a little. He knows full well that I don't really want to get married at the moment, that I feel I'm too young and that haven't done enough with my own life yet, and yet he completely disregarded that. Plus, I'm pretty sure he loves me about as much as I love him, which not at all, so I can't understand why he'd ever think it was a good idea.

I'm fairly close to having a panic attack right now, but luckily I'm home. I park my car but chose instead of heading in to my home to go in to the bar a couple of blocks away. I could really do with a drink right now, and I don't feel like sitting at home worrying about proposals that shouldn't be happening.

I realise once I'm inside that I'm not the kind of person that can go to a bar and just sit staring at a drink, so I take my book out of my bag and read while I drink. Hopefully it conveys a sense of me being intelligently anti-social, like, she might not want to talk to me but she's reading one of those 'important novels' meaning she is someone to be respected rather than judged and whispered about.

For just over an hour I manage to sit in the booth with no-one bothering me, getting up only to get another drink before returning diligently to the spot I was sitting in. Of course it's ruined when some asshole clocks me sitting there and takes it upon himself to slide in to the other side of the booth. I sigh, but don't look up from my book.

"Hey baby." he says. I sigh again, still not looking up. He could be the most handsome guy in all creation for all I care, he stinks of cheap alcohol and cigarette smoke and he called me 'baby' within the first two words he ever spoke to me. I instantly hate him.

"I'm busy, taken, and not you're baby. Please go away." I'm still trying to be polite.

"Whoa, okay, not need to get pissed, baby doll." That's definitely worse. I purse my lips and lay my book on the counter and look at him. His face is as disgusting as how he smells, again, not that it makes much difference. "Just wanted to tell you how fuckable you look in that dress."

"That's not a compliment coming from someone like you, and again, I'm taken." Whether I want to be or not. Even if I wasn't I'd still be telling someone like this I was. "I'm going home now. It's been thoroughly unpleasant." I get up and put my book in my bag and walk out, hoping that's going to be the last of it. It isn't. I can feel his eyes boring in to my back as I walk off.

"Hey, don't leave now!" he says, grabbing my arm once we're outside. There's no-one else out here. "We're just getting started."

"Get the fuck off me!" I yell, but the guy only laughs and covers my mouth with his hand as he shoves me against a wall. I'm completely terrified and frozen for a moment, though I will myself not to be. Getting the upper hand back is key in getting out of this.

"She said get off her, asshole." I hear from behind me, someone who sounds very calm. The guy looks distracted for a moment, and I use his surprise to ram my knee up in to his crotch. He howls and I shove him off me and run. When I turn I see some guy beating him on the ground, and shocking as it is I can't help but cheer him on. This new guy gets off him and walks over to me. "You okay?" he asks, and I nod a little dumbly before I get a glimpse of his face.

"Oh my God, you again!" First fixing my car, then the checkout, then him seriously saving my ass now. It has to be fate that I keep meeting hot grey-eyed guy around. "Thank you so much."

"That's fine, any decent person would have done what I did. Did you drive here?" I shake my head. "You live nearby?" I nod. "Want me to walk you home?" I nod again. I don't really want to be trawling the streets alone right now.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHRISTIAN**

"I'm so sorry you had to do that for me." she says. I look at her to gouge whether or not she's serious.

"Honestly, it's fine. It wasn't your fault, it was that prick who obviously couldn't find a woman willing to put up with the stench." She giggles. It's probably inappropriate to think at a time like this, but it's adorable. "He got what was coming to him. That nut-shot you gave him was beautiful, the kind of thing that can only be done justice in a slow motion replay. I only hit him to make sure he didn't get up again before you left. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Fine now. Thank you for helping me." I hadn't even know it was her when I went over, I just knew I had to butt in. I was raised well. I know that it not something a decent person would just ignore, it's something they would move hell and high water to stop from happening. "I'm Ana, by the way. We've now met three times, I thought it was probably appropriate that you had something to call me."

"That's pretty. It suits you." She blushes and looks down at the ground. I smirk. "I'm Christian."

"It's nice to officially meet you."

"You too, of course. Seriously though, what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like that? It's full of assholes like that guy."

"It's the closest bar to where I live that I know my friends wouldn't be seen dead in. I'm trying to avoid being seen so I can avoid questions. I kind of ran out on dinner at my parents' house this evening. I made my friend Isobel talk to my mother and pretend she was having some crisis making her inconsolable for anyone but me in person."

"It's genius, I'm not going to argue that, but why?" She looks decidedly less pleased about this now.

"My boyfriend Robert was going to propose to me."

"Is that a bad thing?" I ask, trying not to sound disappointed that she's taken.

"Not for most people. I was sort of planning to break up with him, then we had to go for dinner with my parents instead, and I really didn't want to say no in front of them because it would have been embarrassing and they would have kept going on about what a terrible decision it was and what a wonderful husband he would make, and I just couldn't face doing that, because I couldn't say yes, could I, when the thought of spending my life with him makes me feel sick, and if I'd said yes and then gone back on it when we were alone later then that would just make me an absolutely horrific person." She stops, sounding out of breath.

"Breathe, Ana." I instruct her gently, and she looks at me and smiles as she takes a deep breath and shake her head.

"Sorry. I'm just a bit emotional, what with all that, then that guy… It's just not been a good evening. Seeing you again was the only upside." I can't help but smile at this. She probably doesn't realise how happy that sentence makes me. I'm just relieved that she hadn't managed to completely forget who I was over the course of the weekend.

"That's okay. You probably just need a hot drink, a fix of your favourite show and then a long lie tomorrow morning."

"Sounds perfect."

"Yeah, that's my sister Mia's solution to any crisis. I have to say I've tried it out a couple of times and it's not half bad. A hundred percent success rate guaranteed." She laughs and pushes a strand of her hair that's fallen in to her eyes away from her face. Her hair is unruly. Most of the ones who come in have perfect hair, but I much prefer hers. It still looks gorgeously silken and soft.

"I'll definitely be trying it then. I can't argue with the statistics."

We reach her building, a tall imposing place with a doorman. I do not look correct somewhere like this. She turns to me and smiles warmly. I think she's probably going to say goodnight and then go inside.

"Would you like to come up for a drink? To say thank you." she offers.

"I'd love to." I find myself replying. She greets her doorman as she goes in, inviting me to follow her. The pair of us step in to the elevator together and she grins at me as the doors close.

Maybe I should feel guilty about going to the apartment of a woman I both barely know and who is currently in a relationship, but it's just a drink and I don't particularly want to go home since Mia is currently freaking out about how badly the exam she took today went even though she probably passed with an amazing mark. She tends to work herself up about these types of things when she really doesn't need to.

Her apartment is unsurprisingly filled with expensive and luxurious looking items and probably couldn't be any more different to my house. It looks a lot like one of those model homes used in magazines.

"Your maid must have a hell of a job."

"I don't have a maid." she replies, not looking offended at the assumption that she does. "I'm just quite pedantic about keeping things tidy. I don't like mess." She'd hate Mia's room with all her papers everywhere and clothes littered all over the floor. Mine's a little more organised, but nowhere like this place. "Take a seat, if you like. What would you like to drink? I have a little of everything. I'm just going to have tea, but don't feel bad if you want something stronger." She's obviously been taught how to host a guest properly. She's meticulously polite and sounds like she's reciting lines. I much prefer just talking to her, when she's off on a rant about something or other, trying to keep up with the line of thought that keeps changing. She sounds like I assume her parents do.

"I'll have coffee, if you don't mind." If she's not drinking I don't really want to be either. I suppose she wants something relaxing after the ordeal she just went though. "Black, no sugar." She nods, and instead of staying in her living room I follow her in to the kitchen, feeling too out of place to want to be by myself.

"Hard-core coffee, that's what my friend Lilly would call that. She takes hers with about half the mug full of milk and seventeen sugars."

"Mia's exactly the same, and I hate having to make it for her because I just don't understand people like that. Drink it properly or don't drink it at all, don't waste coffee on people who are just going to pollute it." She laughs softly, shaking her head.

"Wow, a real coffee connoisseur." She says it like it's a compliment rather than an irritating habit I have. "I don't really drink it unless I'm super tired, but I'm totally the same about my tea though. I just do not understand fruit tea; there is no point to it. Why are you bothering to put raspberries in freaking tea when it just makes the beverage taste and smell disgusting? It's an insult to real tea." As someone who actually likes fruit tea I'll have to remember not to drink it in front of her.

That's assuming of course that we see each other again.

She pours out our drinks. As I take a sip I'm surprised that someone who doesn't like coffee keeps such good stuff. We don't keep tea in the house unless Mia's found a new one that she wants to try. I suppose that's just another aspect of being well-off, though I'm not impolite enough to comment as such.

I notice that she has a lot of pictures around her apartment, her and her what I assume are her friends and family, in frames which I assume have been chosen because they match the décor. I don't know how someone could spend so much effort picking out things for a house, but then even if I wanted to I wouldn't be able to, and I'm barely home anyway with work and visiting Elliot and Mom and Dad.

I was just going out for a drink alone tonight. I work when they need me to as a barman in there, but I wasn't booked for tonight. I know a few people there and they always give me a discount on drinks. I both wanted to get away from Mia because she was doing my head in and give her some space, so I thought that was a perfect solution. Given what was happening to Ana when I arrived, I'm glad I went out. The thought that I was planning on just staying at home tonight, that I might not have been there, it makes me feel a little sick.

"Who are all he people in the pictures?" I ask her looking along the marble mantelpiece she has filled with pictures. She smiles, glad to have been asked.

"Uh, that one is me and my friend's on Kate's last birthday – that's her in the middle, the blonde one with the tiara on, next to her is Isobel, Jeanette, and on the other side is Lilly, me, and Maria. The one next to it is me and my parents at my high-school graduation, me and Kate again at my prom with our dates – she doesn't remember the name of hers but I think it's written on the back of the picture, my grandparents of their wedding day, my cousin and I at my parents anniversary, me and Jeanette's kids, and the last one is me and Robert."

I try and take a closer look at the last picture without seeming too obvious about it. They're clearly on vacation somewhere exotic, although she doesn't look particularly happy with him. They both look pretty miserable actually, with wan, fake smiles on their faces. If I'd looked at that without her telling me who it was first I would have assumed it was her father, or some other older relative. His hair is greying and there are the beginnings of lines are clearly forming on his face. I had assumed when she told me about him that he would be around her age, maybe a little older. Unless Ana just looks very young for her age, she can't be much older than twenty. He's at least forty, possibly older. No wonder he wants to marry her sooner rather than later, fi someone his age can bag a girl as pretty and young as Ana then they're going to want to lock her down as soon as possible. It annoys me for a reason I can't put my finger on.

"He's not what I was imagining." I admit to her. She nods understandingly.

"No, most people say that. I liked him at first, liked dating someone older and more sophisticated, but we have nothing in common and he's a lot like my parents, placing importance on marriage and material things, and I'm just not like that. I don't want to marry him. I'm too young – not that I think that would matter if I found someone I really loved because age shouldn't come in to it really, should it? – hold on what point was I trying to make?" She looks at me, like I'm supposed to have a clue. "I don't need an excuse anyway, not wanting to marry him is reason enough. And I should break up with him because stringing him along is cruel, and even if it wasn't it's making me miserable." She determines, nodding her head. "Sorry, I know you probably don't want me to be whining about all of this to you, but I can't talk to my friends for fear that something will reach my parents, hence my dependence on patient strangers." I'm an infamously impatient person, but when it's her talking I don't seem to mind.

"It's fine. Would you like my input?" I offer. I don't know much about these odd rich people relationships, but it seems to me that's not actually what she wants, meaning my input might be helpful. I expect her to refuse anyway, but she doesn't. She nods encouragingly.

"Break up with the guy. You've got nothing to lose if it's making you miserable, and if once you get rid of him you realise you actually do care then go back to him, because you are way out of his league anyway and if he knows what's good for him then he'll take you back in an instant if he knows what's good for him." She blushes softly and shakes her head.

"Oh no, he's lovely. He'll find someone better in an instant, but I haven't really been that interested in him since I realised my parents actually liked him, which wasn't the way I wanted it to go. I probably should have realised from the beginning that dating and possibly marrying a rich doctor was never going to irritate them no matter how old he was, and that dating someone like that is never going to be a solid foundation for a long-term relationship anyway."

"God, I can't imagine having parents who care that much about my relationships. I'm pretty sure that as long as I'm happy they wouldn't care."

"I wish mine were like that. They seem to enjoy having this iron grip over my love life." She shakes her head and looks over to the picture that spurred this conversation. "I don't even like that picture. I look exhausted and miserable and like I'm trying very hard not to seem either which is just making it more prominent. My Mom told me to put it up because I didn't have any other pictures of him."

I just nod, silently trying to figure out exactly what kind of world I accidently seem to have entered.


	6. Chapter 6

**ANA**

I think, without sounding presumptuous, Christian may be realising that he's in a little over his head conversing with me. He's doing a good job of trying to keep up, but the fact that we come from two obviously very different places in society, plus my tendency to babble and go off track when I'm talking to anyone mean that he's becoming more and more confused. He seems to have the most trouble grasping how much of a hold my parents have over my life, and without outright saying 'I am financially dependent on them and care a lot more about what they think of me than I like to say, so until I make some money from this book because they didn't want me to go to college because they thought it might impede my getting a husband in the near future I'm kind of stuck doing what they say' I'm not really sure how to explain it to him. That seems a little too honest to say to someone I just met.

"What about you?" I ask, deciding that a change of topic might be more suitable. "Are you in a less horrendous relationship than I am, or have you managed to avoid that?" He laughs, which is obviously a good sign.

"No, I'm not with anyone. Never seem to have the time to meet anyone new, and most of the women I know are my sisters friends, and they're even more nightmarish than she is. Good luck to whatever man has bad enough karma that he does eventually have to put up with one of them. I can't understand how Mia can put up with them. She's friends with all these stupid, annoying people but she's nothing like them, luckily for me."

"You live with her, right?" He's never said this outright, but I assume since she's such a regular part of his conversational topics and the fact he was buying her groceries the other day. He nods, confirming my suspicions.

"Yeah. It's kind of necessary for now. I like having her there." I understand this completely. I hate living alone. This place is too big and too quiet for one person. I used to think that was why I cleaned so often, because it gave me something to do, but I quickly realised that was just a slightly obsessive habit of mine. I tend to clean more when I'm nervous or upset. Nothing's ever perfect, there's always something to do. Something to keep my hands busy.

"It's good you have her. I've just got my parents, no siblings to speak of."

"Sometimes it's great. Other times it's definitely not all it's cracked up to be. Especially being the middle child, that's not an enviable position."

"Is Mia older or younger?" I can't remember if he's mentioned it, though I assume from her seeming dependence on him that she's younger, or if she's not then she's not much older. I can't imagine most people would want their younger siblings to be responsible for them. I know I wouldn't if I had one.

"Younger. It's my brother that's older – Elliot. You might have seen him at the garage the other day, he works there with me."

"With the blonde hair?" I ask, remembering the other guy there. They look very different, and I didn't clock at all that they might be related. I just assumed they were quite friendly co-workers from the interactions I saw, although the banter and relentless teasing they indulged in definitely seems more suited to brothers.

"Yeah, that's him. Bit of an asshole, but his wife cooks me dinner every Friday, so I can't complain."

"Well, if you have to put up with it, you might as well get a delicious meal out of the ordeal. That's why I still visit my parents." It's not. I go because I am their only daughter and no matter how controlling and conservative in their views they are, I feel like it's my duty to love them anyway and ignore how awful they can be. I don't say any of that though, because I don't say that to anyone. I barely admit it to myself most of the time. "The meal tonight was horrendous though, some fish thing that tasted of nothing that my mother said my palette just wasn't sophisticated enough to appreciate. I could tell Dad hated it too; he's probably gone out to get a burger or ordered our poor chef to make him one."

"Their chef would work this late?" I notice his use of their rather than your. I said 'our chef' and he, whether deliberately or subconsciously, tried to remove me from that notion. I wonder why he's doing that. If I asked he probably wouldn't know.

"Most of the staff will pretty much do anything either of them asks. They get paid a ridiculously large amount for overtime."

"Damn. Maybe I should go work for your parents." I can't help the horrified look that passes over my face, which he finds hilarious. "Wow, that bad, huh?"

"I have a thousand horror stories that would make you feel sick for even jokingly considering it. They're the worst people to work for, and yeah, you might be compensated, but not nearly enough. Our cook is the only one that's lasted more than a couple of year before totally cracking under the never ending pressure." He pulls a horrified face and I smile. "Yeah, that about sums it up."

"Maybe not then. I like my job anyway." He pauses for a moment before looking at me. "So how come, if they're such awful people, you turned out like this?"

"They're not bad people, they're just very intense and invested in their own lifestyle." I chose my words very carefully there. I don't like the idea of excusing the things they do, like the time they made our maid miss her sons first birthday, a son who didn't even live with her and who she hadn't seen for nearly six months and who she didn't see again for nearly a year after that. I felt guilty about that, aged thirteen, and apologised no end. They never did, because admitting guilt is a sign of weakness, apparently. "And I'm very different to them because neither of them were all that involved in my upbringing. I had a very sweet nanny, and I leant to be like this from her, not them." He looks like he understands a lot more now.

"I really can't imagine being almost totally raised by a stranger rather than my parents." I shrug. It's pretty standard for people like me. I know Kate had exactly the same.

"She wasn't a stranger. She was like a second mother." She was like my only mother, since my actual mother was the stranger, and I saw her maybe once a week before she remembered that I was boring and not worth her time and sent me off to play by myself again. Again, I decide to eliminate this for a more acceptable version of the truth. I don't want to bad mouth her too much, it feels unfair when she's not here to defend herself, and despite everything she is still my mother.

"Still. I wouldn't want to let my kid get near enough completely raised by someone else. No offence, because you obviously turned out pretty well anyway, but you see my point."

"No. I wouldn't either."

If I have a child I will take great pride in raising them, being an integral part of their life, doing what mothers are supposed to do rather than giving birth and then washing my hands of the hardest part. Any child I had would be the most important thing in the world to me, and I can't understand why someone would want to be such a minimal part of their life. I felt really bad about it when I was about ten, like it was my fault that she was so cold and wanted to spend no time with me. I was lucky enough to realise that this wasn't the case later on. I went through a period then of hating her, and then moved on to the acceptance that hands-on just wasn't her approach, and I shouldn't blame her for that. She does try in her own way to do the best thing for me, even if sometimes I don't agree with what she thinks that is.

I realise that I've been quiet a moment or so too long, so turn to him and smile, the kind that's right on the verge of cracking for no tangible reason. Apparently I have quite a few issues when it comes to actually talking and thinking about my childhood.

"You okay?" Christian tries to sound casual but I can tell he's actually worried. It feels sweetly protective of him to already be reading and worrying about my moods after having known me for such a short amount of time. People in my circle don't care. Emotions are something to be ignored, not explored, pushed down and not dealt with.

I'm starting to hate their approach.

"Absolutely fine." I assure him.

I might hate their approach, but it doesn't mean I won't use it to get myself out of talking about things I don't want to. He looks convinced enough.

"It's getting pretty late." he comments. "You want me to head off?"

"You don't have to, but if you're working tomorrow then you probably should so that you can get some sleep." I know him asking was just a polite way of him saying he's exhausted. Every time the conversation halts he looks like he's about to face plant on to my coffee table.

"I am actually. You got a piece of paper?"

"Uh, sure." I say, getting up and fetching him my notepad and pen. "Why?"

"I'm giving you my number. In case you don't have anyone else to talk to, or you need saved again." I find myself smirking as he scrawls it down, signing it Christian Grey. I wonder whether he put his full name out of habit or because he wanted me to know it, since neither of us bothered giving surnames earlier. He leaves the notepad on the table and gets up. "Thanks for the coffee, Ana." he says as he walks towards the door. I open it for him and smile.

"It's my pleasure. And for the record, I can usually save myself."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. This is just for emergencies when you need my distractions skills at your disposal."

"I'll keep in in mind. See you soon."

"Hopefully, yeah. Goodnight, Ana."

"Goodnight, Christian."

He walks down the corridor and I only stare after him for a few moments before I go back inside and let a huge grin spread over my face as I lean against the door for a moment. I walk quickly over to the coffee table and punch the number that he's left in to my phone. I have a way of contacting him now, and I'm disproportionately pleased about this. It means I'm not risking losing him completely like every other time I've run in to him. I decide to text him immediately so that he will have mine at his disposal too.

_Thanks for letting me vent. Your turn next time? Alternatively we could have a normal conversation. Have a good night. –Ana_

I sign it, not thinking he's actually stupid enough to get confused, but adding it as a precaution. I don't expect a reply, not yet at least, but I get one almost immediately, which makes me smile.

_Normal? How dull. You're much too fun to be normal. You have a good night too._

On that note, I decide to go to bed, which is always a much more complex task for me than it is for most people.

I don't like nights as a general rule. I never sleep well, usually lying awake for hours before getting just a couple of hours of sleep. I'm very thankful that I don't actually have a job besides writing, because I'd be even more exhausted than I am anyway most days if I did, and that might kill me. It doesn't feel like much of an excuse to not work, and I would if I could get a decent job, but all I really want to do right now is write. I have a pretty good idea for a spin-off of the book I'm currently getting published. Maybe I'll start on that tomorrow so I can eliminate this feeling of unproductivity. I know it's only because I know someone like Christian now who actually has to work hard for what he has rather than being handed it all. That's how it should be, surely?

I wind up at four in the morning starting my new book and listening to Taylor Swift as I do it, a contrast to the frankly dark and disturbing tone I'm going for in the book. Pop music always helps to relax me, and it makes me happy.

In the end I've written nearly ten thousand words before I realise how much time has passed, and I go to bed at nine in the morning. This is probably going to be another of my nocturnal weeks, always the worst ones, the weeks where I fluctuate between being incredibly positive and writing reams of genuinely good material and feeling pointless about everything and refusing to get out of bed. I've learnt to stop fighting it and just ride it out, although this earns me disapproval from my friends, who think I should just pretend to be okay.

Maybe I'll feel better after I break-up with Robert. Maybe I should get him over now so I can get it over and done with. Maybe I should text Christian and see if he can make me smile. He seems to be good at that. Maybe I should just get up, pack my things, and go to Europe.

I do none of these things. Sleep feels a lot more appealing.


	7. Chapter 7

A week later, when I'm feeling a little better, my lovely, tidy, quiet apartment has turned in to a chaotic mess. It's my birthday, my least favourite day of the year. I used to like it when I had some say in what happened on it, but now it simply consists of a room full of family I could do without seeing and friends getting so wasted they inevitably break my favourite vase, and if I move that then one of them is bound to fall through the table it was sitting on.

"Ana!" Kate squeals as she bounds through my front door, fiancé in tow, a man who already looks fairly bored, which I completely forgive him for, and simultaneously concerned for Kate's welfare. In this mood she's probably going to do harm to herself and break a beloved object of mine. "Happy birthday!" A person who doesn't know her might be mistaken and think she'd already been drinking, but she just acts drunk when she's excited and then gets super sad when she actually is drunk. I always have to keep a close watch of her at events like this.

I've spent most of the evening so far trying to avoid Robert. I know the rule about not breaking up with someone on their birthday, but there's nothing about not breaking up with them on your birthday, as a sort of birthday gift to yourself, so when he inevitably hangs around to 'help' (read: watch me tidy things up and get shouted at if he does try to help because he's cleaning something incorrectly or he's put something back in the wrong place) I'll sit him down and explain that this just isn't working for me and that rather than marrying him I would rather just not date him anymore and see him as infrequently as possible.

I can't see any possible way this could go wrong.

Right now I'd actually really like Christian here to assure me that I'm doing the right thing. We've texted each other a few times during the week, and I told him I was doing this because he's fighting my corner and supporting me through it. I never usually befriend people this fast, and I get the impression he doesn't either, but already we're falling in to a pattern. He asked if I wanted him to come over a couple of days ago, but I was still very much in my refusing to get out of bed feeling sorry for myself stage, so I said it might be better to leave it. I'm to call him after I break up with Robert so he can come over. He doesn't know it's my birthday, there didn't seem much point in telling him since the only people who seem to care are my family and friends and not me, but I told him I was having people over and that I'd hide the best alcohol they brought and save it for us. He laughed and said sure, he was looking forward to it. I am too. It'll be the best part of what's been a boring day I'm one of these awful people who thinks birthdays are depressing because they make me feel old and closer to death.

Kate says I'm a drama queen and tells me to shut up and loosen up.

Kate is probably right.

Twenty-two isn't all that old. I'm still eight years off being thirty, at least.

I sit on the sofa, sipping the wine I don't even like trying to remember when the last time I actually enjoyed a social event was, and wondering if spending time alone with Christian counts, because if so then it's about three years shorter than it would be if it doesn't count. I like other people in theory, just very rarely in practice, and end up feeling bad about that and enjoying myself even less.

"Ana, up, be vibrant!" my mother hisses at me, grabbing my arm and hauling me up, talon-like nails digging through the sleeve of my dress. "Everyone is staring." No-one cares. They're all too busy having a good time to notice me being miserable. "You need to learn to conduct yourself better when you're hosting."

Do I? Is that really all that's going to be important in my life, hosting parties, putting on a fake smile like it was lipgloss? Should I really just be accepting that I will always feel this empty and stop feeling sorry for myself every time I remember that?

Of course, I say none of this to my mother. I simply nod and walk in to the kitchen to pour myself another drink.

Bed suddenly looks very appealing again. I need to scream or cry, and right now my space is too full of people that I don't want there for me to be able to do either. I should have tried my hardest to ensure that I didn't have to have them here. If we'd had this at my parents then I could have snuck out early. The option to leave is completely removed from me here. I feel like a caged animal being forced in to a corner, and I hate it. I wonder if anyone there realises that their mere presence makes me feel trapped. Probably not. I hope they don't. It feels bad to think even in passing, and a thousand times worse to admit to myself. I should be grateful that I have people who come to things like this to see me, but I can't seem to be.

"You okay, Ana?" Isobel asks as she comes in to the kitchen, empty glass in hand, apparently having had similar hopes to me about getting another drink. I nod quickly.

"Of course. Just refreshing my glass. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes, very much so, although I did have to pretend to still be a little upset about my fake crisis the other day when your mother asked me about it." I crack a smile, the first one of the night I haven't had to force myself in to. I'm only recently starting to realise what a valuable asset her friendship is, even if she's only trying to make me happy because she thinks that the group will like her a lot better if she does everything we want her to. I promise myself that unless it's dire, I won't use her like that again. Anyway, my parents probably won't buy it a second time even if I was willing to try.

"Again, thank you so much for that."

"What was going on?" she asks, sounding genuinely concerned rather than like she's searching for gossip for the rest of the group. I sigh. It will probably become public knowledge soon enough anyway, so I may as well tell her and just hope she doesn't try to talk me out of it now I've made up my mind.

"Robert wanted to propose to me in front of my parents. I decided that probably wasn't a particularly good idea."

"You wanted it to be more private?" I shake my head.

"No… I was going to break up with him. I'm planning to later this evening. I don't want to marry him, and I know that our group is built on people putting up with unhappy marriages, but I don't care. I don't want to do that. Right I'm miserable enough without adding loveless marriage to the list of things I have to feel sorry for myself about."

"I understand. I doubt everyone else will be okay with it though. Especially not your parents." I grimace. I already know they're going to make this as difficult as possible, and how disappointed they're both going to be, but I'm not putting up with this anymore. It's making me miserable and it's not fair on Robert either.

"I know. I don't care." I do, desperately. I wish I had people who would support me regardless of me making decisions they don't agree with, but there we go.

"I'm on your side. No-one has to do anything that makes them miserable, no matter if the people out there tell them otherwise. We can be outcasts together." I wonder suddenly if Isobel cares a lot less about being let back in to the group than I assumed she did, and she's really just helping us all out when we ask her to because she is a genuinely nice, unselfish person.

That makes me feel even guiltier for taking advantage of her the other day, even if it did seem necessary at the time.

"Thank you. It's good to have someone on my side." Well, I have Christian, but I'm not quite ready to reveal his existence to the group, and I need to see to what extent I can trust Isobel before I start telling her things I don't want to become public knowledge, and besides, I like having the support of someone who is here in person right now rather than being represented just a few supportive words on a screen, which he keeps sending me every couple of hours since the day began. They make me smile every time I see them.

"I know. I could have used one." I feel ashamed. I may not have outright spoken out against her leaving her fiancé for someone else, but I didn't side with her either. I managed to remain impartial hoping not to upset anyone even though silently, I was on her side. She seems to sense my mood. "Not you, Ana. I understand not wanting to piss off the masses. The rest of them were a lot worse." A lot worse still doesn't mean I was all that great.

"I'm sorry. I should have spoken up for you. It was wrong of me to keep quiet." It's an awful thing that it took me being in a similar position to admit that to her and myself.

"Yeah, it was, but I forgive you. You're the only one who actually likes me right now."

"They'll get over it."

People start leaving about an hour and a half later, and by about two hours later everyone is gone, bar Robert, who as I predicted is watching me collect dishes and move them in to the kitchen. Once I'm satisfied that it's clean enough that I can at least breathe again, the pair of us sit down on my couch.

"So, the other day at my parents' house I saw something that I wasn't supposed to, and that's why I high-tailed it out of there, and not because Isobel had an emergency." He looks at me questioningly, but there's a hint of knowing to his eyes. "I saw the ring in the box and I couldn't deal with it then because I was freaked out and my parents were there and doing this in front of them would have been horrifying. It's kind of horrifying now." Not the time for going off on a tangent, Ana, stick to the script, I tell myself firmly. "Not the point. The point is that I don't want to marry you. I'd only consider marrying someone while I'm this young and this useless if I really loved them, and I don't love you. I know that's blunt, but there's no other way of putting it. I'm sorry, but I don't want to be with you anymore. I don't want to waste either of our time any more than I already have. I think I need to go out, experience some new things. I mean, I've been with you two years now and I just need to be on my own for a while. I need to do something meaningful, and getting married and spending my life hosting parties I don't want to attend isn't going to cut it."

I expect him to yell, or cry, or something a little less reasonable than just nodding and giving me a reassuring smile.

"It's okay, Ana. I understand, you're very young and looking for something more out of life than the hand you've been dealt. I was the same. Trust me, you'll feel differently soon enough when you realise just how easy you have it."

"I won't. I want to do something."

"You're a writer, and a lovely girl, but you're not going to get your hands dirty. If you were out in the real world you'd last for less than ten seconds before you ran home to you parents. You're just not cut out for it, and that's not necessarily a bad thing. Just don't kid yourself that you are and work yourself up about wanting it, because it's just going to make you more and more miserable."

"It's not about the real world. Well, partially. I just want to see if there's something more out there. Something with purpose." Something that I don't see as being pointless and erasable, something that will last. I want to really fall in love, travel places I've never been, meet new people and eat new foods, get published and use my influence on the world for good. Something other than just sitting around and writing occasionally when I don't feel too depressed to force myself out of bed.

"Right. Well, I suppose you'll want to tell your parents I broke up with you so that they don't cut you off – unless being penniless is part of this 'new experiences' thing, in which case have fun with that. I'll be going now."

I don't say goodbye. I don't get up to see him out and open the door, I just stay very still on the couch, waiting until I hear the door gently shut before I curl up in a little ball in the corner, feeling too comfortable and safe to bother getting up to make tea. After a while I can hear my phone buzzing. I want to stay where I am, but I know it's Christian and I want to see him even more now so I can tell him the good news. I reject the call, I'd prefer to talk to him in person, and if we talk over the phone he might decide that's good enough for him and not come over, and I really want to see him.

_Everyone's gone, house is tidy. See you in 30 mins?_

As always, he replies immediately, never one to take hour to choose the right phrasing for a text like most of my friends. Yet another relieving trait he has.

_Looking forward to it. Have a glass waiting for me._

I smile and look out the bottle of champagne my mother brought that I hid behind all the other bottles in the fridge. For once I actually am celebrating on my birthday.


	8. Chapter 8

Ana is dressed in a powder blue dress when she opens the door. I expect that the fact it matches her eyes is no coincidence, in fact she probably chose it because of the similarity. Mia would kill for a dress like that. She'd probably kill for most of the clothes in her wardrobe.

"Did you do it?" I ask her, forgoing any proper greeting. She laughs and nods, looking distinctly pleased with herself rather than upset.

"Yes, I told you I would." Whether she told me or not is not the issue. I wondered if she might freak out at the last minute and decide she was better off staying with him, which she definitely wasn't. And no. Despite what Mia claims, my interest in the matter was purely driven by my desire to see Ana happy, and not by selfish motives as she keeps suggesting. Honestly, I can't think what's given her that idea, well, apart from the fact I haven't shut up about Ana since I met her. That might have given her the wrong impression. "He was a little angry, but nothing major. I think he's been expecting it for a while now."

"No regrets?" She shakes her head immediately.

"None. It needed to be done. He was weighing me down and I was unhappy and I don't feel bad about it. The hard part is just going to be trying to explain that to my parents, but I'll worry about that later. I just want to celebrate right now."

It does seem odd that she's so chipper about having just broken up with someone, but if she was anywhere near as miserable as I convinced myself she was when she was wondering whether to do this or not, then I don't blame her for being happy about it. I'd be happy to get out of a relationship like that too.

Her apartment is spotless, but certain things are still out of order from her having people over, and it shows on her face that she's not particularly comfortable with that. I think she's past the point of being pedantic about things and she's reached the slightly obsessive stage.

I walk in and sit down, seeing that she already has two glasses out on the table for us. She sits beside me and picks hers up. It's the kind of situation that would usually call for something stronger, but I doubt she drinks that heavily. She takes a very small sip from it before putting it down and grinning at me.

"Anyway, how are you?" she asks politely. The thing is, I think she really is interested, whereas most people would just be asking out of courtesy.

"Good. It was a pretty busy week, but not too bad. How about you, apart from the obvious?" She brushes a non-existent piece of dust from her dress and thinks for a moment.

"Fine." I think it's a lie. I have no evidence, and I don't see why she's bother, it's just a gut feeling. I'm already fairly good at guessing her moods. All week we've been texting and I've judged that her moods have been a little all over the place. She'll write reams sometimes, more an essay than a text; those are the good days. Then often she'll reply with one word and some emoticon. They're the bad ones.

"Really?" I wonder. She nods.

"Yes. I got a lot of writing done." Not a lie, but also not necessarily the mark of a good week.

"What did you write about?" What she wrote about is hardly going to be telling of her mood considering that I know she tries not to inject her own feelings in to her writing – I asked her about it in a text once and she replied with about two thousand words, no exaggeration.

"Just the sequel to the last one." That's not telling at all. "It's been okay so far, but I think my inspiration is drying up. I need to go away for a little while, find somewhere a bit more inspiring than here. I have a friend in Santa Fe, it did wonders for me going there before." Now, here is a real test of whose interests I have in mind when advising Ana. On the one hand I can see how strained she is and how getting away for a while might be beneficial, but at the same time I don't actually want her to go away. I'm about to answer, but then she shakes her head. "I don't think I will though. Too much to do with the book here, and I don't want to irritate my parents any more than I already will have once they find out about Robert and I being broken up rather than engaged. Oh God, they're going to be so angry…"

I'm not sure what she wants me to do, if she wants comforting words or a hug. I'm fairly useless in situations like this.

"Just explain it to them." She smiles in a slightly patronising way that I can't bring myself to mind about and shakes her head.

"I don't think you're grasping just how thoroughly unreasonable people they all are. The don't care if I'm happy, all they care about is how my decisions reflect on them. Their appearance is the most important thing to them."

"More important than their daughter?"

"Well, uh, it's not their fault; they have lots of friends with children – my friends – they put up with relationships and things they don't want to, so I'm already the odd one out. I'm just not really the kind of person that fits in well with them. I know they care about me, they just have a different way of showing it to most people." From the relatively little I've heard about them I'm probably not the best person to weigh in on it, but she seems to care a lot more about them than they care about her.

"Well still, they shouldn't make you feel bad about doing something like this."

"They won't do it deliberately. They just want what's best for me." That sounds like something she's been taught to repeat, like the way she welcomes people in to her home. It makes me uncomfortable. I can't imagine my parents trying to force me to marry someone I barely liked because it was what was best for me in their opinion. The world she comes from is so odd, where actual people matter less than opinions. In my family none of us care what other people think of us, we just get on with our lives and don't worry about it. I don't understand how people live any other way.

"Shutting you out because of this doesn't seem like what's best for you." I'm trying to be reasonable, but right now I want to shout about how ridiculous it is that she puts up with their bullshit. She's a good person, they are not. Her parents don't deserve her, they should have gotten the spoilt brat that they obviously wanted.

Ana doesn't reply. She doesn't look me in the eye either. She keeps her eyes fixed straight ahead as she bites her lip.

I react without thinking and put an arm around her. She looks up at me questioningly. I doubt she's all that used to physical affection, her parents don't really seem like the type for it and her friends seem really just to be kept around out of necessity because they run in the same circles rather than them actually caring about her. She's stiff and awkward for a moment before she relaxes and little and I see the barest hint of a smile cross her lips.

"I'm glad I met you, you know." she says after a moment. "I don't have anyone else to talk to, not properly. I sort of have Isobel, but how far our friendship goes is yet to be determined." I go to take my arm away, but she shakes her head when she feels the movement. "You can just go ahead and leave your arm there. Hugs are therapeutic, right?" I chuckle, quite happy to oblige with her.

We talk for the rest of the evening about anything else we can think of and leave her personal life out of it. We talk about her favourite author - Sylvia Plath, and subsequently her favourite book - a tie between 1984 and The Bell Jar that she's not able to call, then her favourite film - All About Eve, favourite actor and actress - Michael Fassbender and Emily Blunt, her favourite TV show - Orphan Black, because the guy in it looks a little like Michael Fassbender, favourite colour - deep blue and her favourite song - it changes daily, though today it is Even Robots Need Blankets, which is a great name even if I haven't heard it. We go through mine too - Tolkien, although my favourite book is The Colour Purple, which she seems surprised I've read. I love any romantic comedies, I constantly steal Mia's (which she swears she buys ironically) and watch them. She laughs at that and admits she does too. We'll have to watch one together, she says, so we can be losers together. I don't have a favourite actor or actress, I don't really pay enough attention. As for TV shows, really any British drama or comedy that they'll inevitably try to make an American version of which is just crap. I don't have a favourite colour, and I like too much music to pick a favourite.

I enjoy getting to know her. These are little things that she's chosen to mean something for herself, not words put in to her mouth by her parents or peers. She gets so impassioned about everything we talk about, and even though she's loud and rants for about three minutes without pausing for breath, it's captivating.

That's why I can't talk to Ana about her world. I don't understand it, and I don't like associating her with the types of people I assume are typically there. She's so different from all those rich girls that typically come in to get their cars fixed, so normal in comparison, so open with anyone who she thinks is interested and who won't sell her out or judge her as harshly for her actions as those she is typically around on a day to day basis. She admits she seeks out conversation with strangers; it's why she spoke to me the day I met her. I know she does not see herself as being above someone like me. I just can't see how someone like her could be the product of such a toxic society.

For most of the evening we sit with my arm around her and her head in my shoulders. When we deviate from this, if one of us has to get up or gets uncomfortable we stay close. She needs the physical closeness, and I just like having her there.

I end up sleeping on her couch. I've had enough to drink that I'm well over the limit and it's so late that even if I hadn't I'm too tired to drive.

Of course that means, after Ana cooks me pancakes the next morning and makes me promise to come over again soon, and even though I try to come in quietly because it's still early and she won't be up, that I am greeted by Mia the next morning, as I come in wearing the same clothes I left in and she comes down when she hears me in the kitchen, and although she doesn't say anything, I can see the gleam in her eye.

"No." Is all I say to her. She raises her eyebrows.

"Sure..."

"Seriously Mia. We talked for ages and I slept on her sofa. It wasn't a big deal."

"In which case you have severely disappointed me. You obviously like this girl, since you won't shut up about her and since she's willing to put up with you and not getting irritated by you like any normal person would be, which if you ask me is lack of judgement on her part - why didn't you go for it?"

"She's just my friend, Mia. Nothing more." She's great, but she just became available, and right now she needs a friend more than anything. I'm not sure I even see her that way.

"I give it a month at most."

I don't comment. I pour my coffee and say nothing to Mia before I head upstairs to have a shower and get changed before work. I know as I go up there that Mia will be gleefully texting Elliot sitting on the counter about exactly where I was last night, so I know it's going to be total hell going in.

I'm proved right as soon as I go in and Elliot practically bounds up to me, stupid self-assured grin plastered on his smug, irritating face.

"I'm going to castrate you if you say anything."

Elliot walks away very quickly, and I smirk and throw myself in to my work.

I only check my phone at lunch, sitting with Elliot and Lena who are arguing about something trivial again. Ana sent me a message only about fifteen minutes ago, probably because I told her I'd be working and she has already picked up that I never bother to check my messages until lunch, and until she started texting most days I rarely even did that. She says that texting me helps her to keep time, because she rarely has to.

_Hope you're having a nice day, you'll have to cook for me sometime, you owe me now. Going over to my parents this evening to break the news. May be dead. If you don't hear from me, send the police._

I reply:

_Fine so far. My brother's an idiot, but that's not new. Good luck this evening. I'll throw you a good funeral._

_Not helping, Christian!_

I try not to smile too much every time I read a text from her. I know it's something Elliot will pick up on and grill me about. It's quite a challenge though.


	9. Chapter 9

**ANA**

I have been sitting outside my parents' house in my car for over an hour now. Not directly outside, that might rouse some suspicion, sort of down the road a little. I've switched the engine on to go home twice only to switch it off convincing myself that I need to do this in person rather than over the phone.

Unless they're totally awful I'm going to tell them the truth, which is pretty much committing myself to the lie being as my mother will be completely hysterical the moment that I tell her and it will elicit some very heavy tutting from my father, although he won't say anything out loud. He never does. I wish just one of them would be on my side for once, maybe not even that, just not completely disappointed by every decision I make on my own.

I check my appearance in the mirror and finally, I force myself out of the car.

"Darling, why on earth are you here?" my mother asks me as soon as she opens the door. A charming greeting, as always. If I was one of her friends she would never dare to speak to me like that for fear of gossip. I'm just her daughter, so of course it doesn't matter what she says to me.

"Is Dad here? I'd just rather tell you together so I can get this over with." She nods and motions for me to come in. As usual, Dad's in his study, so we have to knock on the door and wait for about an hour before he lets us in. I find myself getting impatient and annoyed; my mother doesn't say a word to me the whole time we're out there, and this only serves to contribute to the feeling. As we go in he nods in acknowledgement of me, but as usual foregoes a greeting. I'm wishing, despite how out of place and awkward he'd feel here, that Christian, my number one supporter at the moment was here with me. Failing him then Isobel, just someone who would be supportive and not as judgemental as my parents to hold my hand through this and tell me I'm doing the right thing.

I find it funny that I'm the kind of person who needs constant reassurance about decisions, yet received very little as a child. Perhaps that's just made me hungrier for it in adult life, though I'm not going to pretend to know the first thing about psychology.

"Anastasia has something to tell us." she tells him. She doesn't sound happy about this. I almost smile when I think that if she's unhappy about this then she's clearly going to be thrown off by the news I'm delivering.

"Robert and I broke up last night." I decide to go for the blunt approach rather than skirting around it. The sooner I get the words out the sooner I can leave, have a good cry in my car and go home and go to bed. It'll be very early when I get in, but I feel I'm owed an early night after staying up so late with Christian yesterday and having to suffer through this ordeal today. "It was fairly mutual."

My mother gasps and hangs her head, and suddenly I'm biting back my tongue to stop myself from screaming at her. The people involved in the relationship were me and Robert, breaking up with him should have never had to take in to account how other people were going to feel about the news. My father remains oddly calm sat at his desk and meets my eyes for just a second before I turn away. Not holding eye contact is a sign of weakness, but he's a lot more intimidating than I am.

"I don't know how he could do such a thing to you!" she exclaims. She looks up at me, shaking her head. She's actually crying. Surely if anyone should be crying, it's me?

The fact that she interprets our break up as him having ended things with me is fine, I decide, whatever gets me yelled at the least. Maybe I'll tell her one day, but currently I have no scruples when it comes to bending the truth to suit my own personal gain if it makes things easier for me.

Looking to my father, he looks a little less convinced by this version of events, as my mother begins some dramatic monologue of betrayal and heartbreak that would feel more in place in a Shakespeare play. I'm just trying to drown her out. Eventually she excuses herself from the room, citing the need to lie down. I plan to have left the house before she gets up, because so far she hasn't screamed at me and blamed me, and I would rather get out of here before she decides that this is the next best course of action. I'd rather have her yelling on the other end of a phone where I can just put it down than in person where just walking away would be rude and just make her even angrier. I stay stood in my father's office, knowing he prefers to dismiss people from his presence rather than have them wander off of their own accord. Again I bring my gaze up to meet his, and am completely shocked to see him smiling. I frown, not entirely sure what's going on.

"He was an asshole, Annie." he assures me. "Getting rid of him is one of the best decisions that you've ever made." This just serves to confuse me even more. I stand unable to speak, completely shocked. My father hasn't said this much to me since I was a child. I wasn't even sure he was capable of speech any more. "I know he didn't break things off with you. I'm not an idiot. I was going to suggest you reject his proposal anyway, find someone who makes you happy. I thought for a while that you might turn out like your mother, but luckily you seem to have some sense. More than I did, I'll give you that. Only one good thing ever came out of my marriage, and that was you."

"If you're so unhappy, why do you stay?" I ask, finding my voice again. He laughs. I don't remember ever hearing him laugh.

"I'm used to it now. May as well stick it out until I die. Plus, that woman would bankrupt me. Easier just to stay and keep quiet and not bother myself with any of that legal nonsense. But you, you can learn. Find someone who makes you happy and stop worrying about what she thinks of you. She doesn't think much of anyone. It's not your fault, Annie." I'm almost crying and I don't really know why. So much for no-one on my side in this family. Apparently I have one person who's been cheering me on for quite a while. It's a very relieving thought. "I suppose you'll want to be getting back now. I'll wish your mother the best when she feels a little better." I nod dumbly and turn on my hell to go. I don't look back as I speak.

"Thank you. I needed to hear that."

"I know. Have a safe drive."

I get out to my car, having not stopped smiling since I left the study. I feel a lot lighter, a lot freer than I did when I was last sitting in this car. I call Christian immediately, knowing he'll be home from work by now and wanting to share my success with him.

"Hey, Ana. How did it go?" he asks as soon as he picks up the phone on the first ring, not giving him time to have checked the number before he picked it up.

"Am I the only person who ever talks to you?"

"Pretty much. Answer the question." I roll my eyes.

"So demanding today!" I exclaim, deliberately pausing for a long time after I speak, forcing him to wait a little longer. "I never knew you were such a gossip. Well, my mother gasped and invented her own Romeo and Juliet, true love lost kind of speech which I forced myself not to laugh through, but she didn't actually yell at me before she retired to her bed because she was about to faint or something else designed to be over dramatic that wasn't actually ever going to happen." He laughs.

"And your Dad?"

"Is apparently a very supportive person, actively trying to prevent me from making the same mistakes as him. Honestly, it's the first time he's ever spoken to me properly since I was about eight, and I felt like I had an actual parent rather than just an older person who sits around looking bored most of the time. He actually laughed, which was slightly disturbing. He's glad I'm proving to be a lot less like my mother than he thought I would be." Even though he's never met her, from some of the stories I've told him, I'm willing to bet that Christian's probably pretty glad I'm nothing like her too.

"I'm really glad about that. It must be awful to feel like there's no-one on your side. At least you have one half decent parent. I don't understand why it took him this long, I mean if it was my daughter then I'd want her to know she could count on me all the time, not just when I feel like she's made an acceptable decision, but it could be a hell of a lot worse.

I have to agree with this.

"Well, he still can't appear to be in front of my mother, I suspect, as that would single-handedly cause World War Three and destroy the world, but I know he's silently cheering me on, and that's enough." I take from Christian's silence that he probably doesn't feel the same way, but that's just because he's protective of me already and very vocal in his support and appreciation. My father just isn't like that, and as long as I know that he is sitting there silently supporting me rather than silently hating me, I don't actually care.

"As long as you're happy, Ana, then I am too." I smile. This is why he's such a wonderful person to have around. This and so many other things, of course.

"I am, definitely. I don't suppose this is the last of the issue I'll hear from Mom, but that was always to be expected, and she assumed it was Robert's idea anyway, so she's probably more annoyed at him right now than she is at me. I just hope she doesn't call him and start shouting at him, that would be disastrous."

"Agreed. Look, I don't really have time to get to yours this evening, but if you want to come over here and don't mind dealing with my insane little sister, then you're very welcome to."

"Sounds good. Can't wait to meet her."

"She just said the same about you."

Christian gives me his address and I input it to my Satnav, too hopeless when it comes to directions to even attempt to find it myself. It's not too far from here, but a long enough drive that I can enjoy a good few songs on the way there.

It's a fairly small two bedroom house, but in a nicer area than I assumed it would be and a lot less run-down than I had been imagining. I think my original estimation of Christian and his lifestyle may have been a little harsh and clearly I was way off base. I walk up the little path and knock on the door loudly. I can hear squabbling on the other side of the door and it makes me smile. I definitely wish I had siblings so I could have done that kind of thing. I think I would have enjoyed embarrassing my brother or sister when a friend of theirs came over. I would have had even more of a field day if it had been a date, I would have jumped in to the deep end with that, showing them baby pictures and telling them embarrassing stories. I wonder if Mia's like that, I assume, since I've been told she's studying some ridiculously difficult science at college that she's a bit more sensible.

My estimation is totally off base.

Mia has sleek raven hair with one long blue streak going through it on the right hand side and glasses too large for her face. She squeals when she sees me and grabs my arm, pulling me hard in to the house.

"Mia, careful, she's breakable and, contrary to popular belief, not your new ragdoll." Mia pouts before she bursts in to laughter.

"I'm Ana, obviously." She nods.

"It would have been great if you weren't though, just some random girl coming to ask for directions or something and you thought I was kidnapping you." I look at Christian who sighs and shakes his head. I'm a little overwhelmed but managing to smile through it. She's forceful and possibly insane, but I like Mia, the well dressed, exuberant, slightly hipster scientist already. "Trust me, he's talked enough about you that I already know you better than I know most of the people I've actually met." Christian rolls his eyes and I let out a nervous giggle.

"Right, you've had a stare, go away now. At least let me say hello uninterrupted." Christian tells her. Mia pulls a face at him but waves at me and makes a retreat to what I assume is her bedroom. "Sorry about her."

"Don't be, she's lovely, a very bright vibrant girl. I wish I had a sister."

"Trust me, you don't. They always seem fun, and then you get one and you remember how much fun it was before you had to put up with them."

"You don't mind her really. You wouldn't be helping out by letting her live with you if you did."

"No, as usual you're right." This elicits a beam of a smile from me. I like when people admit I'm right. It happens to frequently. "Let's go sit down, I'm sure you need to after that encounter." It's my turn to roll my eyes and he laughs as he leads me through to his front room.


	10. Chapter 10

Ana and I are left in peace for about fifteen minutes before Mia bounds in to the room and starts grilling her about anything she can think of. I try not to get over-exasperated with her, Ana seems very patient and willing to answer her. When Ana goes to get herself a drink Mia grins at me and gives me a thumbs up, which I pretend not to notice.

Apparently Ana is very skilled when it comes to charming family members. I doubt that if I met hers they would react in the same way.

She seems very happy that her father is on her side, but I can't bring myself to feel the same way. I am protective of her already, which perhaps is a little pre-emptive, but anyone who claims to be on her side but will not fight her corner constantly and without question is not someone to inherently trust. She needs more people to be vocal in their support of her; she is, despite trying very hard not to be, quite an insecure person at her core. She needs constant reassurance that she obviously rarely gets.

"It's sweet she cares about you so much." Ana says of Mia when she goes upstairs. I wonder how she managed to get that out of her quizzing her so much, and ask her this. "Well, it's obvious. She wants to make sure you're spending time with someone who isn't going to hurt you, that's why she's so interested in me." I was pretty sure it's just because she's nosy, but I suppose she could be right about it. "I understand that it must be hard for you to live with her though and you probably get irritated with each other, but I wish I had someone like her."

"Living with her isn't too bad. She needs my help and actually she keeps to herself most of the time, just not this evening apparently." Her smile grows a little wider and she shakes her head somewhat fondly. I like that she's already growing fond of Mia. Hopefully it means that she'll come over more frequently and I can spend more time with her. I think she feels more comfortable in my house than I feel in hers. "Besides, when I was here on my own it got really lonely. I hated coming home and not having anyone to talk to. At least now I don't have to deal with it being so quiet all the time." She nods in understanding.

"I hate it. I wouldn't if I didn't have to, but a roommate would probably irritate me and as of yesterday I am happily single and probably won't be moving in with a boyfriend any time soon." She's not the kind of person who can thrive well on her own, she needs to be social and around people all the time.

Her expression suddenly turns solemn as she speaks, the light-hearted tone of a moment ago gone. I feel bad for making her feel sad; I know she doesn't like thinking about how alone she is most of the time.

The thought of her alone in her huge apartment is actually a very sad one. I can picture her alone, curled up on her bed, maybe at her desk writing, sat alone in the kitchen as she eats dinner, and she looks happy, and then I imagine she remembers how alone she is. She might check her phone to see if someone has tried to get in touch with her and they haven't. She might call a friend only to have them ignore it or pick it up just to say 'I'll call you back later!" and she looks around and tries not to think about how horribly silent things are. Maybe she puts on music to drown it out, maybe she just embraces it for a while. Either way it's an image that makes me feel uncomfortable and want to protect her, although I don't know why I want to or even how to go about that.

"Trust me, I plan to be around a lot from this point on. You'll be missing the day when you could come home to silence." She looks quite happy about this.

"I wouldn't ever really miss that. I like having you around. I'm looking forward to having you around all the time. I think I'll annoy you more than you'll ever annoy me." I just stare at her. I wonder how she could think that I would ever be annoyed by her. I suppose she's used to people only putting up with her out of necessity. I hope she starts to realise soon that I'm spending so much time with her because I genuinely like her, and not just because I feel like I should.

"That couldn't ever happen."

The smile that spreads over her face is blindingly beautiful.

"You're too nice to me." She's smiling in a way that tells me not to tone it down. She obviously likes having someone around her who actually appreciates her, and what's more, she deserves someone like that. I suppose I'll have to do to fill that vacancy until she can find someone worth her time. I don't reply to her comment, I simply shake my head and she giggles and rolls her eyes.

Mia decides to burst back in to the room at this point, so I don't have to decide what to say to her next.

"Ana, I found a quiz to see what animal you are, I think you should take it so I can find out more about your personality. Ana laughs and humours her by letting Mia sit beside her as she asks her the questions. She likes making people take these crappy teen magazine personality tests, but Ana seems moderately amused and not at all annoyed that Mia's insisting that she takes part. Mia might be a college student memorising some of the most complicated equations possible, but Ana, who is probably around the same age as her, is clearly the more mature of the two.

Ana comes out as a swan which she seems pleased with and Mia apparently agrees with. She announces proudly that she got a lion. I refuse to take it.

"You're no fun." Mia complains pouting, but Ana manages to divert her attention by agreeing to take something else in my place, one to find out her Hogwarts house although she says she's never seen or read Harry Potter. Mia takes a moment to be horrified by this, recalling the time that she made me watch them and saying she's going to have to do the same to Ana next time she comes over, before deciding that she needs to know anyway. I mouth a thank you to her and Ana just grins and continues answering the questions. She's delighted when she gets the 'blue house' because it looks like the best colour. Mia rolls her eyes at this comment but decides to say nothing. My little sister is a huge nerd when it comes to things like Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings and is disgusted by anyone who feels differently. I manage to be a little more mediocre in my love for things.

"Leave her alone, Mia." I tell her firmly when she tries to get Ana to take a 'what is your dream house' quiz. Ana, who has been incredibly patient with her so far, looks very relieved by this although Mia pouts again.

"Sorry, I should probably go home anyway, it's getting late and I don't want to keep you both up." It's past midnight now. I didn't even realise the time was passing. Apparently I don't notice a lot when she's around. I should probably work on that.

"You don't have to." Mia says. "Neither of us need to be up early tomorrow."

"Actually, I do, Mia, I was going to go visit Mom." I got a day off last minute and was planning on going to my parents and surprising them. Mia smiles at me.

"That's sweet." she says before her face falls with realisation. "I can't come along though, I have college tomorrow afternoon… I mean, I could come for an hour if we leave super early." She seems to realise then that Ana's in the room, smiling patiently, not bothered by the conversation we're having that she can't actively partake in. She has no idea why we're so invested in going to see out parents, though she says nothing about this, just takes it in her stride as she does so much of the information that's thrown at her. I haven't explained about Mom being ill. Already after such a short time I feel incredibly close to Ana, so it's not at all because I don't trust her because I do, implicitly and I will tell her, it's just something that I don't feel I need to spring on her without context. It's been going on for a long time and it seems a horrible thing to just announce randomly for no reason. If there's a change, if Mom needs to go in to hospital or on the flip side if she starts vastly improving, then I'll tell her, of course. She's got enough to deal with when it comes to her own family without worrying about mine, and she is definitely the kind of person who would take it upon herself to come visiting with me.

"It's so good you're both so close to your mother." she says with a smile.

"We're just making the most of the time we have left with her." Mia answers, oddly solemnly but still managing to put her foot in her mouth as she so often does. I cringe as Ana looks worriedly at me.

"Is she… Is she sick?" she asks immediately. I don't answer, deciding to leave that to Mia since it's her fault we're telling her at all. Mia nods in response.

"She has terminal lung cancer. We try and visit as often as we can, but with work and college it's getting pretty hard." Ana doesn't say sorry for this like most people do, the irritating ones in my opinion, simply gives me a sad, sympathetic smile and takes my hand covertly, giving it a squeeze. If Mia sees she correctly chooses not to comment. I keep a grip on her hand so she doesn't let go, though she shows no signs of doing so anyway. "Look, I have the day after tomorrow off, if you let me borrow the car then I'll drive myself up then instead of causing a fuss tomorrow when I have other things I need to schedule it around." I nod, although the idea of going alone is rather depressing. I always have Mia there with me.

"If you want someone to go then I'm free." Ana offers in exactly the way I knew she would, not assuming I want her there but also offering. I know she wants to be as supportive for me as she thinks I am for her.

"Ana, you don't have to do that."

"I know. I want to. You shouldn't have to go and do something difficult like visiting a very sick parent without someone there with you if you want them to be. You've been so good to me, I'd love to be able to do this for you if you want me there." I know Ana will be delightful around my parents; my mother especially will love her immediately. She could probably do with a change of scenery from just Mia and I visiting by meeting someone new, and I like the idea of them meeting her. After what feels like a long while of mulling it over, I nod and she smiles, delighted clearly by my decision to let her come along.

"I'd love you to come. Thank you for offering."

"Please, it's my pleasure. I'm looking forward to meeting your parents and telling them how lovely you are and what a good job they did." I realise I'd like to meet hers as well, if only so I could scream at her mother for being so pointlessly cruel to her over the years.

"Don't. They'll break out the baby photos if you do." We're talking in such a casual and uninterrupted way that I forget for a moment that Mia is still in the room. She waves at me when I turn towards her as if to reaffirm her continuing existence before rolling her eyes.

"Text me a time and you can come and pick me up from my place. I really should get some sleep if I'm actually doing something tomorrow, so I really am saying goodbye now." Mia smiles and gives her a hug as she stands to leave before heading to the kitchen, looking for one last snack before bed. I see her out to the door and wait for her to put her coat on before leaving. I open the door for her and she smirks.

"Do I not get a hug from you too? I'm hurt." I roll my eyes but put my arms around her anyway. She's such a small little thing, petite and slim. She smells like pomegranates. She pulls away after a moment and gives me one last smile.

"See you tomorrow!" she says brightly as she leaves and walks off to her car. I'm still standing in the doorway as she leaves, to be greeted by Mia holding the giant box of Count Chocula that she made me by, stuffing handfuls in to her mouth every so often., seemingly amused by the turn that events have taken, mostly due to her.

"You can thank me for that later."

"For what, exactly, being a nosy little shit who sticks her nose in where it's not wanted." She grins and nods, knowing that I'm saying it affectionately rather than cruelly.

"I know, but you'd never get anything done if I wasn't. I told her Mom was ill and now you have a date with her tomorrow and she's meeting your parents! That could not have gone any better if I had tried."

"Using Mom to my own advantage like that is hardly fair, and anyway it's not a date."

"Sure. You have it bad for her, that much is obvious. I tell you what though, you're wrong, Mom would be please that at least something good might come of her ordeal." I know she's right.


	11. Chapter 11

Christian calls me early the next morning to tell me that he will collect me at around midday. It's barely seven thirty, so after I have a shower and make myself a cup of tea I decide just to go back to bed for a little while to read and relax for most of the morning, wanting to feel awake and ready to meet his parents. I don't understand why I'm nervous but I definitely am. If they are anything like him and Mia, then I'm sure they will be lovely.

Since I'm not leaving until later that morning, when Kate calls to ask if I want to go to breakfast with her, I have no excuse to decline.

"Yay!" she exclaims loudly and exuberantly down the phone when I accept the invitation, causing me to wince and move my ear a little away from the speaker. "Just you and me, not any of the others though. We haven't had any BFF alone time for way too long. I'll pick you up in twenty minutes and the we can go to that amazing place near you with those pancakes. See you in a little while!" She hangs up and I sigh, dragging myself from my incredibly comfortable sheets to my wardrobe, the idea of getting dressed so ridiculously early slightly horrifying.

I don't have much time to get ready, and when I get back from breakfast I won't have time to change for going to see Christian's Mom with him, so I have to choose something suitable for both occasions. I go for a fairly informal navy dress. Kate keeps telling me I need to add more colour to my predominantly. I never seem to remember when I'm shopping, or if I do then I find something prettier in my repertoire of colours and buy that instead, although I did buy my bright red coat a few weeks ago for the winter, and she seems to like that because it's so colourful. Hopefully it will stop her from buying me countless colourful scarves for Christmas. I wear that over my dark dress so she doesn't comment on it when she first sees me.

When she arrives, Kate squeals and throws her arms around me. It feels odd; I much preferred hugging Christian last night. Hugs from guys that hot, tall and chiseled and totally therapeutic.

He's not even just attractive, he's so sweet too, and he's been so good to me since we met. That's why I offered to go with him today, I need to do something for him and he looked so lonely and sad when his sister told him she couldn't go with him, so terrified of the prospect of going alone.

It must be horrendous to have a parent so ill, to have to watch them suffer through that.

"I'm super excited for this!" Kate exclaims in a drastic change of tone from my thought process. "It's been too long since we had any proper time together." she complains as we walk to the elevator and let it take us downstairs.

"Yeah, I know. I've missed it." I haven't really, not that much, but it seems like the right thing to do to say that I have. "I have some news by the way... It might be a little shocking." I haven't told Kate about Robert yet, and since she was as big a fan of his as my mother was, it's a slightly daunting prospect to tell her, though still not as bad as telling my mother. I wonder whether to tell Kate that it was me who ended things rather than the other way around. Maybe not. Kate will probably faint while declaring that she is never ever going to speak to me again as long as she lives. She has never been one to forsake melodrama if she can inject it in to a situation. Hopefully I can distract her by telling her about my amazing hot new friend although I'll bet that she will be totally judgemental if I tell her everything about him. I'll go for as few details as possible on everything to minimise how upset she gets. I don't want to ruin our 'super special BFF fun time', do I?

"So do I, let's exchange it over some food, shall we? I hate talking while I'm driving." In order to avoid a crash I think that would probably be a very good idea.

Kate's car is better than mine with a pointless personalised number plate in the kind of bright pink that makes her look like she driving a toy Barbie car that has been made larger somehow. I'm constantly embarrassed to be in it with her, but taking two cars is pointless.

"We could just walk."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ana, get in." I feel like crying but obediently get in to the passenger seat and hope that no strangers notice me and judge me for being there. I'm not bothered about people I know; they all know Kate elected to have this car, not me. Although if Christian saw me for some reason then he'd think it was hilarious and I'd have to avoid him forever so he couldn't laugh at how ridiculous it is. I pretend to be searching my bag for something for most of the journey so that people can't see my face.

When we park I leap out of the car and hurry in to the restaurant. I'm already sat down with a menu when Kate walks through the door.

"Hungry?" she asks me, obviously not realising how embarrassed I am by the Barbie convertible that I just had to ride in and assuming that was why I rushed in to the restaurant. It's made worse by the fact that skinny, blonde, and typically good looking as she is, Kate could be a freaking Barbie doll, as if she and the car were both zapped by some laser to make them real and ten times as big.

"It's totally against my diet, but I'm having the pancakes. I don't even care right now." she tells the waiter when she's done perusing the menu, though why he would need to know about her diet I have no idea. Kate is the last person who needs to be on a diet, but she tends to shout at us if we tell her that, so now we just ignore the comments.

"I'll just have the eggs benedict, please." We order a pot of tea for me and she requests some detox smoothie that I know she's going to hate.

"So, my news!" she announces, much to my annoyance. I wanted to get Robert out of the way first so she'd still have something good to talk about. "I'm getting married in April next year, we're booking the venue later today with our wedding planner! It's so exciting, isn't it? And we've decided to merge his annual New Year's party with our engagement party so it's going to be huge and you have to wear something amazing. How excited are you?" I have to admit the giant party sounds good, or it would if it wasn't going to be filled with rich idiots. I wonder if I could get Christian to come? He'd probably hate it more than I do, and he'd feel rather out of place. I know he'd say yes anyway, he seems quite willing to do whatever I need him to, so maybe asking would be unfair.

"Super exciting!" I say brightly, deciding to use a Kate-esque expression for emphasis. The smile I am rewarded with is worth it. She's definitely irritating, but she's not a bad person at heart and I'm glad to see her so happy.

"Okay, I want to be excited about this more later, but tell me your news first."

"Robert and I broke up."

"No!" she yells, loud enough for the surrounding tables to give us a look of distaste before turning back to their own conversations and meals. "I thought he was proposing! In fact, he was proposing, which means this was your doing." I nod in agreement and she sighs deeply. "I liked him. He was nice enough and caring when he wanted to be. Please don't tell me this is because you have some childish notion of wanting to end up with someone you love. You'd have grown to love him! He was a doctor, Ana; you don't get much better than that."

"'Nice enough' and 'caring when he wanted to be' is not a good basis for a marriage, Kate, I should hope that's obvious to you. Living with him would have been a total nightmare, he's so disorganised and messy it would have killed me. And yes, sue me, I do want to marry someone I'm in love with eventually, although right now I'm inclined to say I'm too young to even be thinking about it." Yes, I'm being totally defensive, but only so I can have covered every point before she tears in to me about this.

"I'm the same age as you." she points out, looking annoyed. I sigh.

"What's right for you isn't always going to be the same thing as what's right for me." I say, trying to be a little more reasonable now. "I think it's great you're getting married if that's what's going to make you happy, but since I got Robert out of my life I've been happy. No more lying around feeling sorry for myself for days, no more thinking that I'm doing nothing with my life. This is good for me. I hope you can support me."

"I don't agree with you, but if it's what you want then of course, I'll make my peace with it." It's better than nothing. I smile at her and she does the same back to me, though hers is weak and unconvincing. Hey, it's there, and that's what matters. "But you'll be alone now. Isn't that horrible?" I don't suppose Kate would understand that even with Robert I felt alone anyway, so I'll have to find another way of explaining it.

"I only want things in my life with meaning. That means, if I find someone else, I want the real thing with them, not some sham that we both partake in to keep other people happy. I mean it, Kate. I want someone truly loving and caring, the kind of guy that supports my dreams and doesn't try to squash them because they might make me less of a trophy and more my own person. I don't care about who they are, so long as they love me and I love them I'd be happy, and if I don't find someone like that for a while, that's okay. I'll travel the world, experience something new, do charity work in Africa and then when I come back bore people to death talking about what an experience it was. Maybe I'll go to college and become a lawyer and defend the innocent, or maybe I'll write a twenty book long series that changes people's lives. Anything. I just want to do something meaningful."

"You're parents aren't going to be so happy with that."

"My father is. He says he wants whatever is going to make me happy, he was very supportive of me leaving Robert. He's glad I didn't turn out like my mother."

"Your father said all that?"

"Amazing, I know, since I've barely gotten three words out of him in the past decade, but as soon as Mom went upstairs to lie down he told me he was glad I did it. He wasn't as big a fan of Robert as you and her, apparently."

"Clearly neither were you."

Her tone is slightly biting, but I look up and there's a grin plastered over her face and a gleam in her eye, so it's perfectly obvious that she is actually joking rather than irritated. I smile back softly at her and nod.

"Apparently not."

"Have you told any of the others? If you say yes then I hate you."

"Only Isobel, because she gave me an out the other day when he was about to propose to me in front of my parents and I couldn't say no if he did it like that because it would have been way too awkward and my mother would have cried and forced me to accept if I'd tried." Kate nods in agreement.

"I can forgive you for that. I hope you know this means I get to set you up in the future."

"Not for a while please, Kate, I'm still adjusting to this one being over. Wait until next year at the very least, and give me time to find someone of my own or escape to another country and change my name so you can't find me if I don't." Luckily she realises I'm joking and takes it well, laughing loudly.

Our meals arrive not long after this, and for the rest of our time there we have a very pleasant discussion about the colour scheme of her engagement party. She doesn't want it to look like some cheap Christmas office party, so she's thinking light pink and silver but worrying that might resemble a baby shower too much. All she wants me to do is agree with the statements she is making, and not offer my own suggestions because then she would be overwhelmed, and as I eat my food I am quite happy to do this.

We sit talking for a while before I apologetically tell her I have to go home because I'm busy this afternoon. She's happy to oblige, and we pay, leaving a generous tip for our waiter before I have to put myself back in the Barbie car. Walking towards it feels a lot like what I think walking towards an execution might feel like.

I've decided not to tell Kate about Christian yet. I know there'd be a bunch of questions about who he is and what he does, and I like him just being my little secret rather than common knowledge. As soon as she hears about him, Kate will want to meet him and assume that we're dating, which, even though he is totally hot and a great person, we are not. We've basically friend-zoned each other, and that's okay.

Even if I did get butterflies in my stomach when he hugged me, that's okay.

I say goodbye to Kate and let her drive off, and I'm barely home three minutes before he arrives, looking drop-dead gorgeous as always.

"I just saw the most ridiculous car in front of your building." I'm placing bets on that having been Kate's. I don't tell him I was just in it; instead I smile and grab my bag so we can leave.


	12. Chapter 12

"I'm so nervous about meeting your parents." Ana says, biting her lip nervously as she pauses for a moment. "Is that ridiculous? It is, isn't it? I don't know why, I'm fine around all my other friends parents." We both know that she's worried about this because my parents come from a totally different world to the parents of all her rich friends, but she's being kind enough not to say anything.

"You'll be fine. Mom will just be happy to have someone different to talk to." They'll adore Ana from the moment they meet her. It's near impossible not to.

She looks moderately relieved by this and nods before she leans over to turn the radio on, changing the station until she finds one she likes. It's irritating pop music but I don't have the heart to make her change it to something else.

"I have a really eclectic taste in music. You're lucky that it's just pop I'm in the mood for today, sometimes it's country and that would be way worse." she explains when I ask her if this is the kind of thing she listens to a lot. I have to agree that if she was making me listen to that it would be much worse, and I might then be pushed to take some action. She sings along quietly to the songs she knows, getting most of the words wrong and not caring. She's not too bad actually, and it's a refreshing change from Mia, who sounds like a cat in a tumble dryer. She looks very happy and contented, no longer worrying about meeting my parents, which was ridiculous anyway. I'm just impressed by how many words in one song she can change to 'something' while she's singing.

Perhaps the most impressive part is, while she can't remember the words to the main body of the song, each time one of them has a rap part she gets it exactly right, timed perfectly. Each time I look at her, because if there's one talent I imagined she might have it's definitely rapping and when she finishes she looks at me and giggle.

"I was as surprised as you are when I figured out I was good at it."

It gets to the point where I am actively hoping for the next song to be Nicki Minaj just so I can hear her doing it again. I'm too amazed to remember how much I hate the song Super Bass – which Mia adores and still insists on playing all the time because she's a huge fan of hers – because she is completely word perfect and then utterly hysterical when she sees my face when the song ends.

"Ana, there are hidden talents, and then there's whatever that was."

"I know. I listen to songs like that just so I can learn them. This is a talent I feel needs to be cultivated, not ignored. And admittedly, I kind of like her so learning these things isn't hard."

"So does Mia. I can't understand it." She shrugs.

"Neither can I really, I just think she's talented and awesome even if some of her stuff is kind of trashy sometimes. It's my guilty pleasure. Her and Taylor Swift."

"If I had known about both those loves before now I never would have befriended you." She laughs and softly elbows me in my side. "Okay, just kidding, cease and desist with the attacking now."

"That was hardly an attack." she says, rolling her eyes. "And you totally would have because I'm wonderful and the kind of music I like doesn't change that, even if it is pretty trashy, although I maintain that Taylor Swift, especially recently, is freaking awesome and no-one has any right to judge me for liking her."

"Your taste could be way worse. Some of the stuff Mia likes is simply abysmal."

"Next time I see her I'll have to get her to play me some of this terrible stuff so I get in to it too. Then you'll have to put up with it from both of us." I feign a gasp and she laughs, rolling her eyes playfully at me.

"I knew you two together would be a terrifying force." She doesn't have time to reply as we pull up outside my parents' house. I watch as the radio is turned off and the smile she was wearing just moments ago fades from her face. She looks severely uncomfortable. "Ana, you don't have to come with me. I can drive you home right now." She looks almost offended by this offer.

"Of course not. I promised I would, and I'd never make you do that. I'm actually looking forward to this, I'm just nervous in case they hate me."

"They won't. No-one could hate you. Just be yourself, you'll be fine." She looks like she wants to contest this but I simply shake my head and get out of the car. It feels oddly for me like I'm bringing home the girl I'm in a relationship with, and I think she feels strangely like that too. I keep having to remind myself that she's just my friend, and she's only here because she feels like she owes me some support after everything she thinks I've done for her. She's wrong about that, but I wanted her here. I wanted someone here. No, not someone. Her. Just her.

"My dress is okay right?" she asks as we wait on the doorstep after I've pressed the bell. She looks beautiful, as always.

"You look wonderful. Stop worrying about it." She smiles at me and nods, taking a deep breath and playing nervously with her hemline.

My mother opens the door and give me a huge smile.

"Christian! What a lovely surprise." She pulls me in for a tight hug before letting go and looking over at Ana. I can see her trying to keep her smile from getting any wider. Ana looks at her slightly shyly, hands clasped together so that she isn't fidgeting in a way that would give away how nervous she is. She looks very collected, and if we hadn't just been speaking I would have never thought anything to the contrary. "Who's this, Christian?"

"Mom, this is my friend Ana, Ana, this is my mother Grace."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Ana says to her warmly, holding her hand out to her. My mother laughs and pulls her in to a hug. She, like Mia, is a very friendly person, sometimes inappropriately so. Ana doesn't seem to mind, in fact I think she relishes the attention of people in a family a bit more loving than her own.

"Oh you too sweetheart, you too. Christian's never brought anyone over before."

"What an unfair thing to say. I've brought Mia over countless times, are we just disregarding all those visits?" Mom sighs and rolls her eyes and Ana giggles.

"Yes, we're definitely disregarding that. Come in, for goodness sake, you'll freeze to death out here!"

"Bit of an overstatement considering it's above freezing, but whatever." Mom sighs again as we follow her in and in to the front room.

"Less of the cheek, stop trying to impress her by being rude, it does nothing. Besides, she already knows you're soft because you're coming here to surprise me with a visit." Ana is grinning, and she waits until I sit down before deliberately taking the seat next to me, keeping close, probably thinking there's safety in numbers until she gets to know my mother. As Mom goes to fix us drinks I take her hand and give it a squeeze, and she looks up at me smiling.

"See? She likes you already."

"Well she hasn't had time to form an opinion yet, but hopefully it will go up, not down."

"So Ana, what do you do?" Mom asks, bringing a tray of drinks and a few sandwiches. I realise it's around lunch time. Ana smiles at her and takes a couple of triangles on a smaller plate after me, seemingly happy just to follow my lead.

"I'm in the process of getting a book published. I just signed the final contract actually, and they're definitely up for publishing a sequel. They're hoping to get a movie out of it, but that will totally depend how popular it gets."

"That's amazing. I'll have to look out for it and read it when it comes out." Ana blushes and looks down.

"Well, I'm doing it under a penname, I know it's ridiculous but I don't like the idea of people I know reading it and knowing I wrote it. That feels like a very intimate thing, like letting them in to my head. It's not that great, I just got lucky because they were looking for something like it and I submitted mine at just the right time." Mom doesn't look put off by her very polite refusal, in fact I think she likes the modesty that Ana displays. She's not up herself at all about being published and having something she wrote out there, and she's still sweetly nervous about other people reading it. I wonder if she'll let me read it.

"Well, I'll just have to hope I pick it up by mistake." Mom says, giving her a wink. She laughs before she takes a bite of her sandwich followed by a tiny sip of her drink. "Your father's in the attic sorting things up there, by the way, but he'll be down soon enough for lunch." Ana doesn't look too off put by this. She's dealt expertly with my mother who clearly already likes her a great deal, so she's probably looking forward to the challenge of meeting my father. She's probably safe in the knowledge that no matter how hard it is for her to meet my parents, it would be ten thousand times harder for me to meet hers.

Dad comes down after a long while of us idly chatting, Mom, a lot like Mia the other night, clearly trying to size Ana up and see what she's like. She's polite and friendly as always, and with every answered question, Mom warms to her even more.

"Hi Christian, hey Mia." Dad says as he comes in, not looking at either of us, clearly just clocking there are two extra people in the room and assuming if the first is me then the second must be Mia, which would usually be a fairly accurate guess. Ana doesn't look offended, she just laughs.

"No, Carrick." Mom says in the exasperated tone that says this isn't the first ridiculous thing he's said all day. He frowns and looks at me, determining that I definitely am his son and then turns to Ana, look of realisation quickly dawning on his face.

"That's not Mia."

"No, Dad, this is my friend Ana. She came with me today to meet you guys." Dad nods and winks at me very obviously. "Friend, not girlfriend, Dad, in case you get confused." I wouldn't blame him if he did, I'm the one pointing out the distinction and I'm getting confused too. It's not her fault, it's completely mine for getting over-invested already. Obviously she's not interested, which is fine. I don't even know if I am. I mean, she's gorgeous and intelligent, but she's also very fragile and she needs to work out how to be her own person since she just broke up with someone and hasn't been single for a long time, and I wouldn't want to risk losing her just because I stupidly tried to push her in to something she doesn't want. I'm happy just to stay her friend.

"Nice to meet you Ana." he says, taking her hand and shaking it firmly. "Good strong handshake." He compliments her. He's always been convinced for some reason that's a mark of professionalism.

"Thank you. It's good to meet you too, Mr Grey."

"Carrick, please." She nods. "So, how did the pair of you meet?"

"I fixed her car a few weeks ago, then we met again grocery shopping, and then at a bar." I leave out the part where she nearly gets sexually assaulted and I help her escape that dickhead, simply because it makes me so angry now to think about anyone trying to hurt Ana like that. I'm so thankful that I was able to be there for her. It doesn't bear thinking about what might have happened if I hadn't gone out that night. The way Ana smiles gratefully at me I know this is exactly what she's thinking about too. I want to reach out and reassure her, take her hand or pull her close, but I hate the idea of fuelling the wrong opinion my parents clearly already have.

They dive at the opportunity when she goes to the bathroom to voice their opinions.

"So lovely." my mother says immediately. "And so pretty too, and you clearly like her a lot to have brought her here at all. Why is she not your girlfriend? You two would give me such pretty grandchildren." She's trying to guilt me in to dating her now, something I have to admit she hasn't tried yet.

"It's not like that. That's not what she needs right now."

"That doesn't matter. You should be going for it! She's pretty and about to be a published author. Snap her up while you can!" I roll my eyes. Of course Mom doesn't understand that she would never go for me in a million years.

"We don't feel that way about each other." Mom and Dad look at each other and they both raise their eyebrows.

"Bullshit." they say simultaneously, and I'm too busy laughing to respond.


	13. Chapter 13

**ANA**

Christian and I spend the afternoon with his parents, and agree to stay for dinner. I don't want to be an imposition on them after they've been so sweet and welcoming already, but they assure me that the like having me here and would be delighted for me to stay. I agree of course, I like Christian's family, and I love getting to spend extra time with him. I'm in no hurry to go back.

Today has felt oddly like meeting my boyfriend's parents, and I really have to force myself not to think of it this way. I've never been so ceremoniously introduced to any of my other friend's parents because I've known them since I was a child.

It's not helped by the disarming way he keeps smiling at me and the reassuring way he takes me hand every time we're on our own. I don't want him to stop, I realise this is my issue and we're just friends, but it's hard to remember sometimes.

Mia was much more intense than his parents are, so I'm actually feeling pretty relaxed with them. His mother especially is being so welcoming.

I'm just glad Christian hasn't taken it upon himself to mention my newly discovered rap skills to them. I'm not sure that would win me points with them, although I think it's Christian's new favourite thing about me. I'm planning on impressing him even more on the way home by trying out some Kanye West. I'm already looking forward to the hilarious looks on his face when I do.

"Right, I'll go and start dinner." Grace announces.

"Would you like any help?" I offer quickly. I'm not a great cook, but I'm also not completely horrible and I can do most simple tasks. I guess my basic knowledge came from a mother who barely lifted a finger around the house other than to point out exactly what was wrong with it and what needed fixed.

"You don't have to." she assures me, but I shake my head.

"I'd like to. It's only fair I help since you've looked after me all afternoon and you're letting me stay for dinner."

"Come on then." She says, and we both stand up. "Thank you, Ana. These two would never think of helping me out." She says it very fondly, and as she passes pats Christian softly on the shoulder, shaking her head.

"I cooked the other day." Christian defends himself.

"There's a first and last time for everything."

Grace leads me in to their kitchen, small and homely like the rest of the house. I might have liked to grow up somewhere like this, somewhere that actually felt like a home and not just a place the three of us happened to live together where any sign of my presence was considered mess and something that had to be eliminated as soon as possible. Whenever he speaks about his childhood, he speaks fondly. I don't think he was ever lonely.

"Put some music on. I hate working in the silence." She points to an old CD played on a small table, stack of discs beside it. I nod and pick a Kari Kimmel one. She smiles. "This is Mia's. She makes me listen to it all the time." Yet another thing we have in common, I think, smiling to myself.

"I love her." I admit. "I heard a song of hers on a trailer for this show I like and looked up all her other stuff."

"Me too, but don't tell Mia. I have to pretend to hate all the music she likes, otherwise she wouldn't feel grateful enough when I let her pick the music." I laugh. I love how fun and easy going their family is. Nothing like mine, where anything can turn in to the next crisis and we have nothing in common with each other.

I'm set to work making the pastry for an apple pie, something which lies even in my repertoire of skills.

"He's very fond of you, you know." she says, slightly surprising me.

"We're good friends. He's really been helping me out over the last few weeks. I'm very lucky to have him around." Grace nods, smiling proudly at this, obviously enjoying being told what a genuinely decent man she managed to raise.

"He's lucky to have you as well. He's never brought any of his friends home to meet us before." She says friends like she doesn't really believe it. I choose to ignore this rather than delve in to any conversation of that sort. Maybe I should try harder at projecting the just being friends thing. The problem is that I don't quite believe it myself. If I keep reminding myself of it, hopefully it will start to seem truer. I don't want to make Christian feel awkward if he picks up how I'm feeling. If his parents can see it then he might be able to, and if so then I run the risk of losing him. That's not a risk I'm comfortable taking.

"Well, I'm glad he wanted to bring me here. You and your husband are so wonderful and welcoming, I'm so happy he invited me here."

"So am I. We were worried about him, he doesn't talk to a lot of people. He has Mia of course, but she's a little too excitable. You're much more grounded than her, and he needs someone to talk to who isn't his sister, his brother, or one of his work colleagues. Have you met Mia yet? She's quite a character." I laugh softly.

"Yes, she is, but so lovely. She was very friendly when we met yesterday, very interested in everything about me, I assume so she could make sure that I was good for Christian."

"They're very protective of each other." Grace agrees. "He looked after her when they were younger and he is again now that she has to live with him. He always had to look out for her. Especially at school."

"Why was that?"

Some other kids weren't too happy about Mia being so open with who she is in school. She realised when she was quite young that she liked girls as well as boys romantically, and we taught her that it wasn't something she should be ashamed of. When she was thirteen she started dating another girl and the pair of them were ambushed on the way home." My eyes widen in shock. Poor Mia. "He didn't let that slide too easily. We never asked what he did to them, because we decided whatever it was if it kept our daughter from getting hurt we were okay with it, but these kids never bothered Mia again. She dealt with most people on her own after that. They gave her little self-defence classes in our basement and she's probably stronger than them both now." I smile to myself. I can imagine a teenage Christian doing something like that. He saved me from that guy outside the bar.

He's such a genuinely good person.

"Christian's amazing. He's so protective of the people he care about." I'm honoured to be included in that bracket of people now. At least I assume I am. He looks after me more than anyone has before.

"I know. I can't take any credit for that, it's all him. He's just always been like that."

We forsake the conversation immediately as Christian comes in to the room, smiling as I turn the pastry out on to the counter and start rolling it flat.

"You two getting on okay?" he asks. Grace and I looked at each other, grinning, and nod. "Good. See, I told you that you didn't have anything to worry about coming here." he tells me. I roll my eyes.

"Yes. Thank you for that. I was trying not to give away how nervous I was, but I'm so glad to have you here to give the game away anyway." I say, not actually annoyed, made perfectly evident by the smile that's still resting on my lips. I've barely stopped smiling since we arrived here. I like spending time with him, meeting his family, seeing a little further in to his world which is so beautifully different from my own.

"Sorry, but you were hardly being subtle about it."

"I hadn't noticed." Grace interjects.

"Thanks, Mom." Christian says with a sigh. "Okay, you two seem to be doing fine, no need for me to offer my help." It's said pointedly, and Grace tuts before she starts laughing softly. "Call me if you need anything."

"I'll have to show you his room later. That'll put his nose out of joint."

After dinner Christian and I decide it's time to head back home. I say goodbye and thank them for being such gracious hosts and a delicious meal, and they make me promise to come with Christian again soon. I promise that I will, and I'm not just saying that. I'm already looking forward to the next time I might be able to go over, hopefully with Mia next time. I like the idea of seeing them all together, seeing how they all interact with each other. I feel like I'm studying a different species to my own, but one that works better than mine does, one where the interactions are healthier and not everything and everyone is fake and two-faced. I want to be part of their world. I already like it so much better than my own. Surely, theirs and not mine is the way things are supposed to be.

"So, what did you think?" Christian asks me when we're in the car. He seems almost nervous to ask, like I might suddenly reveal that I think they're awful people and I never want to see them again. It couldn't be further from the truth.

"I thought they were great. I felt really included, and your mother especially is so friendly." Apart from the occasional coughing fit, it's not abundantly obvious that Grace is sick at all, and I managed to forget on a number of occasions. I bet Christian does too, probably Carrick on occasion. It must be so difficult for them, and Grace of course, having to live with that.

"I'm really glad. I was a bit worried that you might hate it – I know they're very different from your family and that must be a little weird to adjust to, but you did amazingly."

"No, they're great. I wish I had a family like that."

"I think they're planning on making you an unofficial member of ours already, so I don't think you're going to have to feel sorry about that for too much longer now. Mom especially isn't going to let you stay away too long. She wants you to come over with me at next week some point, but don't worry if you can't come or you don't want to, I understand."

"Don't, I'd like that. As long as you're okay with it, of course." I don't want to seem presumptuous, assuming that he wants me there too.

"I wouldn't have brought you here in the first place if I wasn't."

"Well, just tell me when you're going and I'll make myself available. I'm already looking forward to seeing them again." He looks really pleased by this, and I feel a little swell of pride that just the thought of me liking his family as much as I do made him this happy. It makes me feel like I'm genuinely important, like he values my opinion. He seems pretty pleased that they liked me too, so obviously he's hoping we might spend more time in each other's company soon. I have no issue with this.

Well, maybe that it makes remembering that we're just friends even harder than it has been these past few weeks, but I'm determined to ignore that.

Ignore how sweet he is, ignore what a good person he is and how good-looking but modest he is and remember that he's helping you, and that losing everything he brings to your life, the support, the sense of stability, the sense of purpose, for a shot in the dark chance that he might feel the same is not worth it.

After a car journey of chatting about his family, making him listen to my current favourite song which he has to admit is pretty good, and the occasional rap song, we arrive outside my apartment, and I'm kind of reluctant to go in. We sit out there for a while until the conversation dies out and I realise that I'm going to have to go back to my dark, empty apartment, so contrasting to the homely chaos of his parents' home, and his for that matter. I'm far too pedantic to ever let somewhere I live get out of hand, but I wish I could, just so I felt like I actually lived there for once, so it couldn't be just any generic home.

"I had fun today." I tell him as I get out. He insists on walking me to the door.

"I'm glad. I look forward to next time. I might try and recruit Elliot to come so you can meet him." It would be nice to meet all the members of his family, although technically I have seen Elliot, just never spoken to him. Christian says he's quite outspoken. I can't help but wonder what he'd make of our very close friendship blossoming out of nowhere.

We hug, as is apparently our new customary tradition. I pull away from him and smile, and it just feels like one of those moments in life that shouldn't be ignored. I know I should, but in my defence, he makes the first move.

He kisses me first. I just don't make any effort to stop it, and kiss him back.


	14. Chapter 14

**CHRISTIAN**

She breaks away from me first.

I thought she might giggle, look away horrified, say something meaningful about how she's wanted to do that since we met, but she doesn't. She just stares at me with confusion glazing over her cornflower blue eyes, never breaking my gaze but looking impasse, like she's waiting for my reaction so she can tailor her own according to it.

And I find myself not saying anything either. I want to, I want to tell Ana that the kiss we just shared meant something to me and I'm too afraid to. I'm going to lose her if I go the wrong way with this.

Ana is beautiful, intelligent, and well-off, and a thousand more things that make her far too good for me. She kissed me purely because I caught her off-guard, and she's only confused because she had no idea I felt like this, not because she feels anything similar. There's no other reasonable explanation.

"I'm so sorry about that." I say finally. Ana looks even more confused, although I can see the strain in her eyes as she tries not to.

"Oh, uh, it's fine, I think." she replies, voice soft. I try not to focus on her lips, which she's biting of course, usually so perfect, now even more so swollen from kissing and slightly redder than usual. I need to shake myself out of this. Seeing her this way is just serving to make this worse. I'm an idiot for ever thinking that doing that was a bad idea. There's nothing to blame apart from me, but I wish there was, even just one glass of wine that might have lowered my inhibitions enough to make me doing that acceptable.

"We should just forget that happened." She nods, looking distinctly unconvinced.

"Okay. Yeah. That's probably for the best. Just treat it as a mistake, which it obviously was because I'm your friend and clearly you don't actually want anything more."

"Exactly. And neither do you."

"No, of course not. We're friends, nothing else."

"That won't happen again." She nods and sighs softly.

"Well, I'm going to bed. Have a great night."

The moment she goes inside I sit down on the steps and put my head in my hands. That was a monumental fuck-up. I could have lost her, I almost did. Luckily she seems on board with ignoring it, seems perfectly willing to accept that it meant nothing. Of course it didn't, I'm completely crazy about her and I would have told her that if it wasn't so impossible that she could ever feel the same.

I stay there for only a minute or so before picking myself up and getting back in to the car. I don't speak about what happened with Mia as I pass her, I excuse myself, citing exhaustion, and go to bed.

**ANA**

The second I get in to my apartment I slide down against the door and try not to cry. I fail. I'm having a total breakdown over this. He kissed me, but obviously he feels nothing for me, he said as much, and so I had to agree like it was no big deal even though I felt like my heart was being torn out of my chest. He gave me hope and it lasted about thirty seconds before he took it away from me again. I feel sick to my stomach.

Being just friends just got even harder.

Somehow I manage.

* * *

><p>Over the next few weeks we speak just as frequently as before. We meet in the bar he works part time in, I go over when I know Mia's out, he comes here and we cook together or watch a movie, sitting as far apart on the couch as we can. It feels strained at first, but by Christmas it's back to normal again. I've become an expert at ignoring the lingering feelings I have for him and started to enjoy spending time with him as a friend. It's still there of course, and the fact that it's not reciprocated still makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry, but I don't. I stand proud and ignore it, because just sometimes, using my mother's approach to a bad situation is preferable to actually dealing with things.<p>

It's the morning of the day before Christmas Eve, and I'm not going to see Christian again until after New Year. He's going to spend Christmas Day with his parents and I've been roped in to a week of vacationing in Aspen with my parents, flight leaving this evening. It's our traditional Christmas, and will involve us spending as little time with each other as possible. Luckily Kate and her family will be there too, and hopefully tomorrow evening when we get very drunk I'll finally summon the courage to tell her about Christian and how I feel about him and she can comfort me and, more importantly, she can forget this idea of setting me up with a blind date on her New Year's Eve engagement party, which is happening the evening we return, and also stop trying to set me up with her brother Ethan who is a weed-smoking asshole who tries to cop a feel every freaking time I see him.

I tell all this to Christian as I'm packing – he's supposed to be helping, but all he's done so far is sit on the bed and make his way through the beer he brought over – who laughs, shakes his head, and occasionally comments on how little I seem to resemble the typical person from this world I seem to live in. Clearly though, I'm not different enough for him to like me in a way that's anything more than friends. Which is fine. It's just hard sometimes.

No, I'm not bitter at all.

He kissed me, and that's what gets to me. He kissed me and it was this huge mistake as soon as it happened. I feel used, like he was trying me on for size to see if I'd fit as anything more than a friend, and when he clearly decided that meant nothing to him he never wanted to mention it again. I'd like to at least talk about it once, because we never did. There was never any discussion, just the pair of us ignoring it and pretending that nothing had ever happened, and I'm not confrontational enough to bring it up, because I know I'll just be silenced, and that it's a little late now anyway.

I have him listening to New Politics because I'm trying to educate him in music which I like and is actually produced in this century, because all he listens to is heavy rock, specifically from before the year 2000 and classical music from several centuries ago. The former I don't mind, but I can't stand not having anything to sing along with.

I skip the song Stuck On You purposefully, even though it's been one of my favourites over these past couple of months, which is of course _nothing_ to do with current circumstance and how perfectly it fits and how I feel like crying every time I hear it. I'll listen to it on the plane later and think again how unfair it is.

Unrequited attraction is the worst thing in the world.

"Look, this Ethan guy tries anything with you, call me and I'll come to that engagement party she's throwing you and punch him in the face." This irritates me. I'm well aware that even though he doesn't say it, Christian thinks I'm flighty and irresponsible, but I hate the assumption that I can't take care of myself. I know it comes from the unfortunate but one-off experience with that guy outside the bar, so his heart's in the right place, but I don't like that he doesn't trust me to take care of myself. "Just be careful what you do around him, don't give the wrong impression." And this irritates me even further.

"So what you think I'm leading him on? Are you going to ask what I was wearing last time we met, tell me to wear something unflattering and not drink in case that give him the wrong impression?" I know he didn't mean any of that, I realise it was just the wrong thing said at the wrong time, but dammit I am angry at him, not for this, but I've kind of wanted to yell at him for months, and unreasonable as it may seem, he's just given me a reason.

"No, Ana, of course not. That wasn't what I meant at all. I was simply going to suggest you tell him in no uncertain terms that you're not interested. You're so nice that he may have gotten the wrong impression – his fault entirely of course, not yours. That's all." Damn him for being so reasonable when I'm angry with him and deliberately being unreasonable. Damn him for not yelling back at me and starting the argument that I want to have with him which isn't even about this.

Damn him for kissing me and making me feel this shitty.

"You're not my boyfriend!" I yell suddenly. "So it's none of your business and you shouldn't care."

"I know that, Ana. That's not what I said. I'm just saying be careful, because there are some asshole guys out there. That really is all. I'm just looking after you, like I always do."

"I'm not a child! I do not need to be looked after and treated like I am some grenade that is about to go off." Although I'd say that analogy was fairly accurate since I appear to have exploded now. "I do not need you telling me how to look after myself, because I was managing fine before you came along, and I'll manage fine after you've pissed off to the next disaster that needs your help."

"Oh really, you were managing fine on your own? You with the almost fifty year old boyfriend you hated but who you kept around because you were lonely and he was rich, you who didn't get out of bed most weeks and who still refuses to see a doctor about that abnormal behaviour, because I think you were doing a pretty shitty job of looking after yourself, Ana, and I think if I wasn't here it only would have gotten worse. You're an emotional roller-coaster, up then down; you barely still eat and get out of bed on occasion, some days you barely speak to me." I refuse to address anything other than the last concern in this list. The others come with too much weighted on them if I allow them to be brought in to this.

"And again, so what if I don't speak to you some days? You are not my fucking boyfriend, you're just some guy with no-one else to talk to, and excuse me for getting freaking sick of that some days." That's a lie. I never get sick of him, but hell, I am pissed off and I'm just going to scream the first thing that pops in to my head.

"Oh no, Ana, I was doing fucking fine before you came along, it's you with all these fake little friends who needs me, some guy to prop you up because you can't be honest with anyone else and because your family is a dysfunctional mess whose bullshit you're weak enough to keep putting up with but you're also upset enough that they don't love you that you come running to me every time they make you cry."

And suddenly, I don't want to argue with him anymore. I just want him gone.

"Just go." I say quietly. "You obviously don't want to be here."

"Ana, no, shit, I'm sorry, I just–" I cut him off immediately.

"I don't want to hear it. Just go. I'm done arguing with you." I'm done putting up with a lingering attraction to you and a sense that I'm not good enough for your company, that you're only putting up with me because you feel sorry for me and because for the moment, there isn't anyone better for you to waste your time on.

He nods and gets up quietly and leaves the room. I sink down on to my bed, waiting until I hear the front door slam to let the tears start rolling down my cheeks. I can't block out the new realisation of exactly what he thinks of me. I've never been this angry at the same time as feeling like I've just been shattered in to millions of pieces. I feel like if I move I'm going to be sick.

I've been so desperate not to lose him that I've been forcing myself to stay around him no matter how much it hurts, and now I probably have anyway.

I allow myself ten minutes of misery before I force myself up and in to the bathroom to make my appearance decent before I start packing again. I switch the music off and finish a lot quicker now that he's gone, and still feel like if I allow myself to focus on anything other than which of my dresses I should be packing then I'll break down again.

I very deliberately leave my phone at home. I know when I get back it'll be full of apology texts and worried voicemails telling me to call, but I know I'll delete them all. Aspen might be a nightmare normally, but for the first time ever I'm looking forward to a week with my family, away from this. I can put off dealing with this and forsake the mandatory damage control for a little while. If I decide to speak to him when I get back I'll lie and say I forgot my phone. Of course, he might want to hear from me even less than I want to hear from him and never call again.

I get to the airport and force a smile on to my face, greeting Kate's family happily and going with Kate straight to the airport bar and staying there until our flight leaves, the whole time wondering whether he's called yet but thankful I won't know for a week.

* * *

><p>AN: Yes, I promise to sort this soon, so don't hate me. I needed to get everything out in the open before I could sort it all out. Give me this one angsty chapter which was super fun to write and I promise, heavy on the fluff again soon.<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

Aspen is exactly the kind of mind numbingly dull vacation I needed to forget about all the awfulness with Christian before I left. In the cold light of day the next morning, waking with a hangover that I don't help by crying and feeling sorry for myself, I realise that I am going to have to sort it out when I go back. I don't want to yet, a week of no contact is probably for the best for us, but Christian is so important to me. We both said things that were harsh and unfair, and if he's willing to forgive me then of course, I'll forgive him too and we can go back to where we were hopefully. I don't want to lose him, he's become far too important.

Of course I can't do anything about this the moment I get home because I am immediately whizzed to Kate's apartment so we can have our make-up and hair done professionally for her engagement party. We meet all the others there and exchange 'lovely' stories about our Christmases, which I know for a fact are mostly made up. Kate and I were drunk for most of Christmas Day, but we lie and say we had a lovely time, presents and then a walk together –which honestly was our intention before we found the bar and made a permanent detour – and the lovely Christmas dinner we had with the family – which we had to act sober through and threw up most of it later after another round of drinking. Worryingly, this is probably how everyone's Christmas Day went, but they all have similar stories to our, which was agreed upon as we lay together on Boxing Day feeling sorry for ourselves, citing 'food poisoning', which no-one else had despite having eaten exactly the same things as us, as our reason for not going out skiing with our families. We were so hung-over that neither of us could face drinking even a sip of alcohol for the rest of the trip. I know why I was so miserable, but I never asked Kate what was wrong with her. Neither of us was in any hurry to disclose our problems to the other; we very rarely are.

Christian was unfair in a lot of things he said when we argued, but he was spot on about me and my fake friends. He's right, I need him because I need one person in my life who is genuine and who I can actually trust.

Clearly though, we have a lot of issues that we need to talk over before things can go back to normal. I just hope he's as willing to talk things over and as unwilling to lose our friendship as I am, because I'm not sure I could take it if, when I call him tomorrow, he doesn't want to hear from me. Hopefully he's had time to see his wrongdoing and forgive me a little for mine and understands that I needed time to think which is why I didn't call immediately. He's a reasonable person, I'm sure that's the case.

For Kate's engagement party, me and the rest of the girls are all dressed in ball gowns, necessary of course to convey our importance and wealth. I complain of course, but that doesn't stop me from secretly adoring mine, a shade of rose pink that I never wear with a tight bodice and ruffled skirt. I wear my hair down, lightly curled, and I have only the barest make-up to bring out my eyes.

Looking at myself I forget about Christian for a moment and marvel at how genuinely good I look for once. I'm not the kind of person who thinks of herself as pretty, no matter how many times people assure me I am, but it's impossible not to look stunning in a dress like this, simple silver jewellery used as an accent to the dress.

I wonder what Christian would say if he saw me like this.

He probably wouldn't care. There'd probably be some comment about how the ridiculous amount of money spent on this dress could have been so much better spent. No, that's unfair.

He'd probably tell me I looked beautiful even if he didn't think I did and make me feel amazing, the way he always does. That's why I feel so strongly about him. He's a good person, regardless of my mental attempts to paint him as otherwise in my head so I can stop thinking about him in a romantic way.

For all my irritation that I have to attend Kate's party, it actually isn't too bad. Everyone compliments my dress, including my mother who is for once pleased at how I have turned out for the event. After a week of her I have very little left to say to her, not that we ever have that many in-depth conversations anyway. I've enjoyed my time with my father a lot more than my time with her. Late at night we've been sitting together, drinking whiskey, and I've never felt closer to a member of my own family.

I told him about Christian. It's weird suddenly being so open with my father, but I'm really glad I can be now. He seemed a little sceptical when I first mentioned Christian, mostly because he was worried that my just getting out of a relationship might impede my judgement as to who was best suited for me next. He assured me that as long as I'm sure, he doesn't care who I date, although reminded me that it was very unlikely that my mother would have the same open-minded attitude. I explained that right now I'm not even sure Christian wants to be my friend any more, let alone my boyfriend. He certainly didn't seem all that interested in me before we argued, he's likely to be even less interested now. I just hope I can convince him to keep me around a little while longer. Being cut off from him for a week has been unbearable, and that was my doing. If he never wanted to see me again then obviously I would comply, but I'm not sure I'd be able to bear that.

It would be impossible to cut him out of my life now.

I suddenly want very much to get away from this party and go to see him. Turning up at his door would be a little abrupt, but at this point a phone call isn't going to cut it, and I'm not going to go home and wait for him to make the first move. Waiting for him and letting it all be on him is childish and unfair. I played an equal part in the argument we had, I have to have an equal part in us making up.

If we make up, that is.

After I've been at the party for a couple of hours I seek out Kate to ask if I can leave. She laughs heartily and calls me a 'riot' and says that since it's not midnight yet and it's a New Year's Eve party, and how could I even think about leaving when I haven't even met the guy she wants to set me up with? Then she marches in to the kitchen to chase up some missing hors d'oeuvres and find more alcohol for herself. I'm still forsaking drinking after the killer hangover I sustained over Christmas. Plus, if she's insisting on setting me up with some random guy, I'd like to have my wits about me.

Her fiancé, who I previously hadn't noticed was in tow of her stays standing beside me and shakes his head.

"She never slows down, does she?" he asks. I'm totally blanking on his name right now, so I just smile and nod and hope that it doesn't come up for any reason. Hopefully someone will call it and he'll answer and then I'll know. That would be convenient and less awkward than him realising that I've met him on more than five separate occasions and have promptly forgotten his name.

"Nope. You'll learn to keep up with her. The rest of us have."

"I'll relish the task. It's not supposed to be easy, right?" I'm not sure why he's asking for my opinion on this. Surely Kate's told him that I'm the only one of her friends who is currently single and therefore without opinion on the matter.

"I guess not. Kate's amazing though, and there's a whole host of us ready to kick your ass if you make her unhappy." He laughs very genuinely.

"I'll remember that."

I'm actually starting to like Kate's fiancé, which would be a way better accomplishment if I could remember his name. Maybe when he leaves me I can sneak on to Facebook on my phone and check Kate's relationship status. Surely he's listed under that, she's not the type to keep quiet about these things on social media.

"James!" I hear a very familiar voice exclaim and almost recoil away from it in horror. "And Ana, of course, how good to see you both."

I look over towards Robert, where the voice is coming from and try not to look too horrified about the prospect of seeing him and talking to him again. I'm really not sure I have the energy for this.

At least now I know Kate's fiancés name. I'm not sure that's quite enough of a bonus to make me genuinely happy about this though.

Of course Robert would be here. I'm in total emotional turmoil about things with Christian at the moment and having him around is especially unhelpful. When I compare even my friendship with Christian to my relationship with him, I realise not just how unhealthy it was, but how much better off I would be with someone like Christian. No, not even someone like him. Just him.

"Ana, you look delightful." he greets me. I try to smile pleasantly and end up looking strained and irritated, which I am, but for once not at him. Not even at him, just at myself. The more I think on things the more I think I should have called.

"Hello, Robert. I really am trying to be polite to him. I can see my mother watching the interaction out of the corner of my eye which annoys me even more because it means I have to try even harder to seem polite as well as genuinely sad that we broke up rather than elated about the situation. "How are you?" My mother smiles when she catches my eye. I know what she's thinking - she wants me to try to get back together with him, which obviously is the last thing I want to happen.

"Fine, very busy as always. I wasn't planning on attending tonight but James insisted." I knew he and Kate's fiancé knee each other but I had hoped she might talk him out of inviting Robert considering my history with him. If she tried, she was sadly unsuccessful. "How was Aspen with your family?"

"Good. It was nice to catch up with Kate for a week. I spent as little time with my parents as possible." He laughs genuinely at this.

"Probably for the best. I remember how crazy they drove you last year." I forgot that he came too. "So, are you seeing anyone?"

"Jumping right in there?" He laughs again, shrugs his shoulders and nods. "No, not exactly. Kate's setting me up with some guy tonight but there's someone else I'm interested in right now so I'm not holding out much hope for that going well, and now I'm realising what a wildly inappropriate discussion this is for me to be having with you."

"For what it's worth, don't waste your time. Not again. You wasted enough with me." He doesn't sound annoyed by this, he just sounds sad, not even for himself, for me. Maybe because he actually cared a little for me he feels less like his time was wasted. I just spent more than two years of my life putting up with some guy I barely even liked. I think that definitely constitutes a waste of time.

"Thank you, but I'm really not going to come to you for romantic advice in the future, helpful as it may be."

"Probably for the best. Have a wonderful evening, Ana." Well, that could have gone worse.

"Ana!" Kate exclaims, waving me over. "That looked awkward, was that totally awkward? I was going to come over but then he left and I didn't have time." she babbles, slightly more than normal because she's had rather a lot of wine tonight.

"It could have been a lot worse." I say with a genuine smile.

"Good. Well, I want to introduce you to Michael now. Can I go and find him for you now?" I sigh and nod in agreement.

I see Kate make her way over to a fairly good looking guy, but one who only looks a few years younger than Robert. Do I really want to jump from one rich old man to another?

No. And I want to make things right with the man I actually do like, whether or not he likes me back.

Robert's right. Leaving him only to waste more time on someone else I don't care about is pointless and ridiculous.

Leaving Kate's party this early is impolite but necessary.

It's a relatively short walk to my house, only a couple of blocks, yet in the pouring rain it seems a lot longer. I don't go inside, simply jump in to my car, glad I haven't had anything to drink yet, and set off. I'm sure I look abysmal, but I don't care.

It takes too long to get to Christian's house, but eventually I arrive and park badly outside, running out of my car and knocking hurriedly on his door.


	16. Chapter 16

I am spending New Year's Eve the way I have done now since I moved out of my childhood home - alone. I know Ana hates this house, not for any snobbish reason, but because it's always a mess and she has a huge issue with that. It really isn't as bad as she seems to think it is most of the time, and my house is a damn sight better than the clinically clean apartment that she lives in which resembles a model house rather than a home. At least if move out there would be some sign that Mia and I lived here once. You'd really have to search for any sign of Ana there.

In fact, there is more record of her here than in her own apartment. Food she likes is scattered in the cupboard, her book still lying on the coffee table, and a pile of others beside the sofa, which is the new home of her fluffy purple cushion that she hides her face in when we watch horror movies. The whole house smells of her citrus perfume and the pomegranate shampoo hat I like as much as she does. She keeps a makeup bag and toothbrush in my bathroom for the nights she stays on the sofa, lipstick, mascara and other things more typically littering the counter than actually staying in the cherry blossom print bag. I never questioned this.

Her stuff replaces Mia's. She's been gone since the beginning of her holiday, and though she hasn't expressly told me, I think she may be moving out when she comes back. I have no idea who she's seeing at the moment, but I suspect it's them she wants to move in with. I'll miss her, but I won't stop her leaving.

Honestly, I don't mind as much as I would have before I met Ana. She's so important now, I can barely remember a time without her, and where there are memories that she isn't in from before I knew her, mentally, especially over the last week, I've found myself going through them, distorting them, wondering how she might react viewing the situation. She'd probably hate me for doing that.

But we are arguing and she, although back in Seattle, will be at her friends engagement party, and like I have for the last week, I find myself void of her company, and missing it more than I realised I would. I think about calling her, like I have every day this past week, but I know exactly how that conversation will go if I do – she'd say she was busy and now wasn't the time to make amends, and that she didn't know if she could forgive me now, and without letting me speak she would put the phone down. Then she'd return to the party that she was at, apologising and telling them that it was just some mechanic ringing about her second car being out of the shop tomorrow, and didn't he realise it was New Years?

No. That isn't a discussion I want to have tonight.

And so, while she mingles with people with more money than sense, people that I know for a fact she doesn't belong with, I sit at home, wondering exactly when the next time I will see her will be, and wondering if it might have been easier never to have met her. It was something I think a lot more than I care to admit.

As I take a swig of the cheapest spirit the all night garage was selling, a drink which tastes a lot like paint stripper, I think about her again. I barely stop. Ana might be slowly making her way through a glass of champagne, her first and only of the night, listening to classical music instead of the rock or pop crap I know she listens to when she's alone, laughing at jokes she doesn't find funny, fake smile plastered on her face, the one she never wears around me. She'll probably make a speech at some point closer to midnight for her friend. And then at midnight…

At midnight she'll kiss whichever guy takes her fancy, and I'll still be alone.

Feeling sorrier for myself than I have done all week, I realise that my bottle is nearly empty. Luckily when I had trudged out in to the foot deep snow for a bottle yesterday I had thought to pick up more than just the one. Seven, in fact. I plan on getting through them all before the Christmas decorations have to come down, not that I've bothered to put any up.

I wander slowly in to the kitchen. I unscrew the bottle cap with my teeth when I can't do it with my shaking hands, and can almost hear the slightly shrill, exasperated voice telling me how déclassé I am. If she was here she would be sat on the counter, swinging her legs, talking about something that a few months ago I never would have cared about, but now, just so she didn't leave, I'd ask as many questions about as I could think of.

There's not a lot I wouldn't do to get her to stay a few minutes longer.

The kitchen is a mess. I never bother cleaning and Mia has less time than I do so most of the counters are littered with dishes or wrappers, and the floor needs swept and scrubbed badly. Ana always complains about the mess, not that she would ever lift a finger to try and make it better apart from shoving things aside so she has somewhere to sit. She very rarely sits on chairs, and if she does then she perches on the arms.

"Always so fucking difficult." I sigh, not really meaning to speak aloud, breaking suddenly the silence I have been in all evening. I take a large swig from the new bottle before slamming it down on the counter and picking up the glass closest to me and hurling it at the wall.

The wall seems rather a blameless victim in all this, but her silence is my own fault. She was probably expecting me to call all week and when I didn't she thought that I didn't want to speak to her again, which is not true at all. I just wanted some time to cool off after we argued, to think about everything. I don't know if I can go on much longer feeling like this about her and just being her friend, but at the same time cutting her out of my life is impossible. I've missed her like crazy over this last week.

I pick up the bottle again and walk back through to the front room, flinging myself back on the couch and taking another long drink.

Every time I think about her she becomes less real. I need to see her, just for a second, just so I can remember her properly.

If she was here now she'd berate me for getting myself in to such a state. She'd take the bottle off me and sigh, tell me to go take a shower while she fixed me something to eat in the vague hope it might soak up the alcohol and make me a little less hung-over tomorrow. It's what she does when I drink too much, which is often. Or does she? I've been thinking so much about her I can't tell what's a memory and what's some imagined quirk I've invented to make her seem more real.

No. She is real, not just some drunken illusion that I have created.

It feels like a long time passes and not much happens. I might have fallen asleep, blacked out from all the drinking, or just stopped being aware of my surroundings. Either way it is a loud knock that makes me jump off the couch.

"Go away." I yell at the door. It was either Elliot, coming round to see if I have a drink because he's run out and Laura is out with friends or because she has kicked him out yet again because he said something stupid, or my druggie neighbour asking if I want to go round and get high with everyone they have over, celebrating the New Year in a way they won't remember when the next one rolls around. I am one offer away from accepting, and that really isn't somewhere I want to go. The knock sounds again, louder than before, and kicking an empty beer can from the night before out of my path I make my way to the door and open it slowly, not bothering to hide the annoyance on my face at being disturbed.

She is stood there, brown hair falling down her face dripping from the rain, style which had probably taken some stylist most of the afternoon to create completely ruined. Her make-up is fading but amazingly water proof and so light that it probably wouldn't matter too much even if it wasn't, and there drops of water on her eyelashes that which I can't tell if they're tears or raindrops, and she still looks like the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, as though someone has quickly styled her like that for some movie scene where she has to look weather worn yet somehow still perfect and then run around the corner. If that's the case then they've done the most incredible job. Her pale blue eyes won't or can't meet mine, she just looks down at the ground.

I want her to look at me. I want her to see what happens to me when she's gone and I don't know if she's coming back. I want her to see and realise how truly pathetic I am when I don't have her, and that I can say whatever I like about how much she needs me, but it will never be anything compared to just how much I need her now.

Two months. She broke me down and reduced me to this in just over two months.

She looks at me finally, as if she read my thoughts. Her eyes are sad, and she isn't smiling, not bothering to feign one for me; we are past that now.

I realise that if I'm broken by this lack of contact, so is she.

She is wearing a pink ball gown, and she has never looked so simultaneously beautiful and uncomfortable.

All we do for a long time his hold each other's gaze. She probably can't believe that she's here herself, that for once she made the first move and made a decision. She's incredibly indecisive most of the time, and even if she wasn't, she's supposed to be busy drinking with rich people and not thinking about me. Apparently not.

She throws her arms around me, almost knocking me over. I don't think this is what she intended to do when she arrived, but I'm glad this is how it turned out. She buries her head in my neck, closing her eyes and I hold her tight to me, reluctant to ever let go of her. I can feel her soft, warm breaths against my neck. It hasn't just been the week she's been gone but the weeks since I kissed her with no physical contact apart from the accidental, and I've missed holding her more than I realised.

She can't go again. She means too much to me now, and she's not letting go of me in a similar way that makes me think maybe she feels like she has as much to lose as I do. I can tell she feels as awful as I do about the last week. She's probably been as out of her mind as I've been out of mine.

Ana is crying silently, but when I move away from her slightly, hands on her arms to both steady myself and because I'm not quite ready to let her go entirely yet, she smiles at me in the most gorgeous way possible and takes a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry I took off and that I didn't call all week. I'm sorry that I left it up to you to make the first move because I was as wrong as you were. I'm sorry about everything I said because it wasn't true, I just wanted to hurt you because I was angry, and I'm sorry that when you fought back I kicked you out and ignored your apology because it was cruel and unfair. I'm sorry that I've been a terrible friend since you kissed me because I have feelings for you, and I'm sorry for not telling you then and for letting this fester because now you're probably going to want nothing more to do with me and I'm going to lose you, and that can't happen because even if you never want to be anything more than my friend, you're right, I need you, so I am prepared to ignore all those other feelings and just be your friend, but I had to tell you because that's why I got so mad and why I was so awful. So that's everything I have to apologise for, and you don't have to forgive me yet, just promise you won't shut me out forever."

I'm too dumbstruck and drunk to interrupt at all, and it takes me a few seconds to process what she's said and assure myself it's not some weird dream and that I'm not still passed out on the couch.

"You have feelings for me?" I ask her, choosing to focus in on this.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, and it's not because you kissed me, it was a little before that and then a lot after, but I know that's not what you want, so I promise I'll block them out, just don't let that or the stupid fucking argument we had be the end of this, because this is the one good thing I have going for me. I'm not ready to lose you yet."

"Ana, I said I didn't want anything more from you because I thought that was what you wanted. I'm an ass, I know, but you looked so confused and upset after we kissed that I thought that was what you wanted. I'm so sorry." Her eyes light up through her tears, and I realise she doesn't care about the explanation at all. All she cares about is that what she's feeling is not unrequited, and frankly, that's all I care about too.

"Really?" she asks me, and as I nod she throws her arms around me again, this time kissing me too, only for a moment. I stagger with the sheer force she collides with me and she laughs as she moves away, a welcome sound that I realise I haven't heard in far too long. "I'd kiss you properly but you taste of cheap alcohol and I had enough of that in Aspen trying to drown my sorrows. We'll get you cleaned up, do something about the mess I can see behind me, and then we'll talk, okay?" She asks. I nod and obey, still smiling as she ushers me in to the house.


	17. Chapter 17

It's three thirty in the morning and I'm still at Christian's house. I made him take a shower and go to bed and promised that I'd still be here when he woke up. I was just going to sleep on the sofa for a while but the mess was making me so uncomfortable that I couldn't. I was fine for a little while with how much mess there is around his house, but I've become unaccustomed to it with a week away and the kitchen alone sets my teeth on edge. Happily I carry a change of clothes in my car, so by one in the morning I was out of the ball gown and back in to the rags and on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor, and knowing Christian was out cold I didn't bother to keep the noise down and played his old rock music loudly as I worked.

By half past two I've moved on to the front room, and I'm trying very hard not to count the bottles I'm putting in the trash.

I think it's the vacuuming that wakes him up. He's in a partially adorable, partially pitiful half-drunken half hung-over state. He waits until I'm done and I've switched the vacuum off before he sits down on the couch and takes a couple of aspirin.

"Why are you cleaning?" he asks, smiling at me.

"Because I couldn't sleep, there was nothing else to do, and your house was disgusting." I point to the three sacks in the kitchen. "That is all the rubbish I found. I'm not even going to go and look in the other rooms, I do not have the energy."

"I'm sad you're not still in the dress. You'd look like Cinderella."

"She never wore her ball gown when she was doing all that house work. How ridiculously impractical that would have been." He rolls his eyes, and I don't respond. Instead I wind the cord of the vacuum back up and go to sit beside him. I feel like he's lucid enough for us to have a proper discussion about things between us now. That's why I stayed after all, I need to find out where I stand with him. That and I was worried he might pass out and hit his head if he was left alone that drunk, and I felt like I needed to look after him, since it was basically my fault he got in to that state in the first place.

"I thought you might be gone when I woke up. Then I heard cleaning noises and realised you must still be here because you're the only person who spends any time here who cares whether it's clean or not." I smile and roll my eyes at him. He chuckles and puts his arm around me slightly tentatively, as though he can't quite remember whether or not what we said to each other at the door was real or not. I immediately relax in to him, relieving a little of the tension that had accumulated between us. "Are we good now, Ana?"

That's the most simple yet loaded question I have ever been asked in my life.

"Yeah, we definitely are. I like this." I hope he realises that I'm referring to the newfound intimacy between us rather than just spending time with him. He isn't stupid, but he's proven to be especially obtuse about the matter before. I wonder maybe if that's because he was trying specifically hard to think of everything I was doing, even at my most obvious, as just being the actions of a close friend. He's probably had as hard a time of it these past few months as I have dealing with my feelings for him.

Christian smiles and kisses me very softly, just ghosting over my lips.

"I'm very glad about that. I definitely like this too." He stops for a moment and looks in to my eyes. "Sorry I didn't kiss you at midnight." It's a sweet slightly drunken rambling that makes me smile.

"You can do that next year."

I'm too tired to say anything more to him, and he to me. We end up falling asleep together on the sofa, far too exhausted to even think of moving.

Neither of us wake until eleven thirty when we hear the door opening and closing again and Mia bounds in to the room. She looks at us and carries on in to the kitchen before skidding to a halt and walking back, staring at us accusatorily. I sit up and rub my eyes, catching a quick glace of the time and wondering if going back to sleep is too lazy. I'm still completely exhausted.

"You two?" she squeals excitedly. I smile and nod and Christian winces, now completely hung-over.

"Well, thanks for warning me that your sister was coming home. We could have been a little more discreet until the details of this were ironed out, but I guess she was always going to find out at some point." I say sleepily. Mia's eyes light up.

"I'm the first to know?" she exclaims. "That's so great! I knew I was the most important member of the family."

"Mia wasn't supposed to be home for another three days, or I would have warned you. I'm so sorry Ana." He looks genuinely apologetic about this, which is very sweet but completely unnecessary.

"Oh please, I don't actually mind. If anyone was going to find out then it would be her, and I don't mind because I know at heart Mia is a lovely person who won't tell anyone else before we're good and ready to tell them ourselves, isn't that right?" Mia looks grumpy but she nods in agreement.

"Fine, but I get to tell them with you when you do." she bargains. I sigh.

"Okay, yes, you can. After all, you are an equal part of this relationship." She clearly doesn't understand sarcasm because she grins anyway and excuses herself to go and make us all coffee, making some remark about how pleasantly surprised she is that we're not naked and that the house is tidy for once. I'm not sure if she feels these are correlating issues, as a scientist I should hope she doesn't. "Well it was fun keeping that quiet for the three point five seconds we managed."

"You get sarcastic when people wake you up. It's hilarious. More of this please."

"I assume we're going to be spending a few mornings together at least so you can enjoy this until the novelty wears off and then find it as annoying as everyone else."

"I'm already starting to." I laugh and get up and stretch.

"Oh God, I still need to go home and unpack. Party plus emotion plus late night cleaning is not a good combination. Never again will I attempt anything of the sort. Any chance you want to come over and help since I was so kind and cleaned your house while you were asleep last night?" I ask, obviously not actually expecting him to accept, although it might be nice, especially since last time we were both gathered over my suitcase it almost ruined absolutely everything for us. Hopefully this time would be a little more successful than the one before was.

"How about I come over this evening instead and cook you dinner as a thank you for taking care of me last night and to welcome you home. I'm really not feeling leaving the house until this headache has subsided a little."

"The technical term is kick-ass hangover."

Over coffee with Mia, Christian and I manage to avoid speaking to Mia about our relationship by distracting her with questions about her trip. Christian looks strange talking to her, and I think there must be something going on between them that I don't know about. I wonder whether asking seems intrusive or whether it would constitute caring. This whole having a boyfriend who I actually give a shit about thing is very difficult already, although I am rather relishing the challenge so far.

I leave not too long after we're done with coffee, Christian planning on coming over this evening for dinner. I'm not sure if he's planning for dinner to turn in to anything more, I certainly wouldn't be complaining if it did.

Unpacking is laborious and dull in much the same way packing is. After having barely been alone the last week and how pleased I am about how last night went I'm realising once again just how much I hate my quiet little apartment. I'm a little sick of my two options – silence or music. Once I've finished I reward myself by sleeping for a couple of hours before I have to get up and get ready for Christian coming over. He's seen me looking fairly rough before, but I feel like tonight I need to make an effort, being as this is technically our first official date as an actual couple rather than tow people pretending that we don't like each other as anything better than friends.

I can't believe how ridiculously stupid we were.

One day we might tell our children about this and let them laugh at our mistakes too.

I might be getting a little ahead of myself thinking about children already, but I've always been a fan of forward planning. I'm sure he'd find it endearing rather than creepy and presumptuous if he found out, which he never will because I'm not insane and obviously I'm not telling him about the future children we may never have. I don't know, I just feel like this is the first proper relationship of my life, and ideally I would like it to last on a very permanent basis. Planning all this is just my slightly odd way of showing that.

About an hour later me, Christian, and my kitchen are completely covered in flour. He was making some coating for the chicken and managed to drop the bag so it split all over the floor. Of course I was wearing a lovely red dress which is now close to ruined, and I don't even care because I haven't stopped smiling since he came in.

"I'm so sorry." he says again, managing this time to form the words through his laughter. I'm actually crying I'm laughing so hard, so I take a moment to gather my breath and wipe under my eyes.

"It's fine, I can deal with this. Want me to order pizza?" He nods defeated. I give him a quick kiss and smile even though he tastes horribly of flour. "We'll try cooking again with a less complicated meal. Like, the kind you can put in the microwave maybe. Start cleaning this up, I'll get our usual." I always end up having some form of takeout with him, and I've become familiar with his order for each of our usual places. I'm always forced to order because he has some weird hatred of talking to strangers on the phone and asking for things even though we will be giving them money as soon as they turn up to our door with what we've asked them for. That's one of very few quirks he has that I don't find endearing.

"Okay, food's on the way." I tell him as I go back in to the kitchen. He's managed already to sweep a lot of it up which is relieving. I'm finding it funny for the moment, but I want the mess gone before the feeling of amusement subsides and I am left feeling uncomfortable in my own home. I help him, and by the time our food arrives my kitchen is almost clean, and I feel relaxed enough to leave it and go and eat with him.

"Frankly if we hadn't done that we probably would have burnt it and ended up ordering take out anyway." I tell him. He nods in agreement.

"Yeah, and pizza beats chicken anyway." I can't disagree.

"So how was Mia after I left?" I ask him, having not breached the topic yet.

"Good actually. She's irritated she can't tell anyone, but she likes being the first to know anything like this, so we're pretty much in the clear."

"You know you can tell your family whenever you like, I have absolutely no problem with them knowing, right? I'm just holding off telling mine for a couple of weeks in case we hit a rough patch, which I hope won't happen, but you know, just in case." Being as my mother is going to be horrified whenever I tell her that I'm dating someone she didn't pre-approve first, I'd rather hold off until I know it's permanent before I tell her and subsequently am cut off and she never speaks to me again. Well, not cut off. Hopefully, with his new support of me and the fact he already knows Christian exists, Dad will be happy enough and make sure I'm not made homeless and forced to root through bins for my next meal. I'm sure my mother would be in favour of that, even if I wasn't together with Christian I still didn't make the most of my opportunity to win Robert back at Kate's engagement party, and that is enough to have me in her bad books for at least half a year.

"I will, soon. I think the best thing for now is just to keep it to ourselves, well, us and Mia. Give me a heads up before you say anything to your parents, I feel like I'm going to need time to prepare for that battle."

"You're concern is probably justified." I say. I don't want to worry him, but I also don't want to totally downplay the freaking out that will inevitably occur when I tell my mother. She'll be ridiculous and over the top about it.

I resolve not to let it bother me. I just hope he feels the same.


	18. Chapter 18

Sorry, I kind of took the week off because I was swamped with work, way ahead on my word-count and had the dawning realisation that I was probably going to have to write some smut in this chapter or next (spoiler: it's this chapter). I'm quite awkward, and while I have no issue reading smut, writing it continually proves a huge challenge. I'm trying, but what I'm saying is, like with SYD, any smut will be infrequent and only when it is genuinely relevant, not just whenever I can't think of what to write next, so if that's why you're here you might be better off reading something else (not that I don't love you, I just don't want you to be disappointed.

Okay, I think that's it. Regular updates commence now!

~Rachel

* * *

><p><strong>CHRISTIAN<strong>

I remember Elliot telling me once after he first started dating Laura that he only really started to find out about her after their relationship began. I'm not sure how applicable this is considering he'd known her five minutes before they got together, and I've known Ana a good few months, but I do learn new things about her on our first official date.

The first thing I find out about Ana that I didn't know is that she's terrible at pet names.

She's too well-spoken for most. I call her 'sweetheart' with ease when I ask her where she keeps her plates, not even thinking about it. This sends her in to a spiral of doubt and worry because when she tries 'baby' and it sounds incredibly forced and wrong given how generally well-spoken she usually is, as well as factoring in her general awkwardness. As such she tries a host of others throughout the evening, each more ridiculous than the last.

"It's not my fault!" she complains, pouting, trying hard not to laugh at herself. When I ask her why she blushes and shakes her head. "The youngest guy I've dated was thirty six, and all the others were over forty. The only way to make that creepier is to add in a pet name." A second, albeit more disconcerting revelation. Maybe Elliot was right. Stranger things have happened. Actually, no, they haven't, this would be the strangest thing ever. "Besides, I didn't like most of them enough anyway. Not like you… Uh, okay, I'm running dry on things I haven't used yet. Pumpkin? No, that's the worst one, and no longer seasonally appropriate."

"Just stop trying." I tell her once I've stopped laughing.

"I think that might be for the best."

I catch the smile she's wearing in a kiss which makes her giggle before she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me in closer to her. Her skin is oddly cold where it touches mine, and I notice after we part she brushes herself off and straightens the dress she's wearing that wasn't messed up in the first place. She smiles warmly at me and I know she's worried that she's messed up her appearance. I've been around her for long enough to know that this isn't vanity; she's as obsessive about her own appearance as she is about her apartment. She claims to be a 'perfectionist' but I think it runs a little deeper than just that.

Ana and I agree to me platonically staying over. It becomes less than platonic fairly quickly as we walk in to her kitchen. She looks so prettily exhausted and she's biting her lip as she stares at me as though she hasn't quite remembered that she's allowed to do that now and it no longer has to be a secret.

I simply smile at her and, as she puts cutlery away, I come up behind her and put my arms around her. She sighs softly and turns in my arms to face me and fixes her brilliant blue eyes on mine. She locks her arms around my neck. I know she's wondering whether to say anything, but we both seem to decide at the same time that doing so would not be the most effective use of this position. In one fluid movement I gently lift her up to sit on the counter and lean forward and kiss her softly. I feel her smile against my lips as she tangles one hand in my hair, kissing me deeper. We're both happy to stay like that for an amount of time that I can't quite pinpoint.

Eventually I break away from her and she whines softly before she giggles and kisses me on the cheek.

"Tonight doesn't have to be as platonic as first planned, you know."

That's more than enough for me. I lift her up and she laughs loudly as I stride determinedly into her bedroom, glad I had been there before and wasn't forced to try every door in her apartment until I found it. She laughs as I kick the door shut.

"You could leave it open."

"I live with Mia." For the moment. "Trust me when I say, it's better we practice shutting the door." She laughs again, but as I lay her down on the bed she sobers a little and bites her lip as she pulls me down after her, immediately whipping off my shirt, not bothering to take her time about it, although lying back for a moment and studying me closely. I hope the smile she wears indicates that she likes what she sees.

Her dress is unnecessarily complicated, but a quick look determines that it might serve me well to start with the ribbon that ties it around her neck. After that there are a series of zips and buttons before it will come off, and she sits up so I can pull it over her head.

"I'll wear something easier next time." she assures me, throwing a look of distaste to the dress which I've now cast aside on to the floor.

Taking her dress leaves her in only lacy, black underwear, a classic which is always appreciated and look incredible in contrast against her porcelain skin. I kiss her neck again, down her collarbone, and then over the top of her perfect, ivory breasts. My arms work under her and unclasp her bra, throwing it the same way as I had her dress, though managing to remove it with far more ease. She watches my every movement closely. He traced over the top of her breasts feeling her shiver slightly as I do. I press a kiss of her lips as I rub over her nipples softly with my thumbs, feeling her moan against my lips as she bucks her hips up against my hardness. I supress a groan. That noise that she makes is incredible. I know already that I'll never get enough of it.

I look over her again, trying to memorise how completely perfect this girl is, wondering why she would ever want someone like me and just being incredibly thankful that she does. It's not just beauty but something ethereal and angelic about her. Even her flaws just seem endearing. There will never be a man worthy of her, certainly not me, and yet for some unfathomable reason she seems to think that I am.

I'm not willing to correct her on this quite yet.

Ana's hands work the buckle of my belt and she pulls it out of the loops. She pulls my pants down and off him followed by my boxers. Not wanting to be naked while she even had the barest amount of clothing on, I hook my thumb into her panties and pull them off swiftly. We take a moment to take each other in fully before she runs her hands down my arms and links them with my hands. I pull her up so she's pressed against me and kiss her again, deeper and more passionate than we've ever been. I thought she might feel awkward or embarrassed, but she doesn't at all. She seems perfectly comfortable with me, which I am incredibly relieved about. As much as I want this, and have wanted this since I met her, I would never dream of it unless she was one hundred percent comfortable with me.

The Ana I see laid out before me now, naked and beautiful is not the shy girl I've come to know. There's a self-assured smile resting on her face, and her eyes are dark, lustful, and hungry. It's not a look I've ever seen her wear before, but I think it's my favourite of hers, walls down, no inhibitions anymore.

"God, you're incredible." I whisper without even thinking.

"So are you." she tells me before kissing me softly.

I move away from her and nestle myself between her legs, tracing one finger along her slit, rewarded by her letting out another moan. After a moment I move my finger along to her clit, rubbing circles around and over it, and her previously wordless moans became soft cries of my name. I'm amazed by how receptive she is. I wonder how I compare to all the old men she's dated, and swiftly decide not to think about it, much less ask her later, although I'm sure she'd find it hilarious. Instead I slide a finger into her tight, wet heat, quickly adding another to her dragging them slowly out before I plunge them back into her, over and over again. My name mumbled under her breath mixed with soft cries of 'Oh God!' the closer to orgasm she becomes make me almost reluctant to pull my fingers out of her for the last time, leaving her breathless and on the edge, wanting more, needing release, with my own hard length pressed against her stomach as I kiss her again gently on her already bruised lips. She whines softly as I prevent her from the contact she needs.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. Protection first." I'm amazed at my own ability to form such a coherent sentence. She gestures hurriedly to the drawer on her bedside table.

It's probably unfair of me to be this glad that the box of condoms in the drawer by her bed is unopened, but I can't help it as I open it, take one out and hand it to her. I really hope she can't see it, although by the fact she doesn't comment before she tears it open and rolls it on to me, I suspect she doesn't, either that or she's currently too frustrated to care.

I look at her deeply, taking her in before I move again. As I stay still her eyes flutter open and she rolls her eyes when she sees me staring.

"Oh my God, just fuck me already!" she demands, laughing quietly. I've never heard her so blunt before, but I like it.

I say nothing before pushing in to her, watching her eyes press shut, throwing her head back and clutching my shoulders, nails digging in deeply. Bring inside her feels incredible, but I refrain from doing anything until she opens her blue eyes and nods softly, silently telling me I can continue. I kiss her deeply as I begin thrusting in to her, taking a moment before I realise that I'm murmuring her name as I do.

She makes small breathy sounds as I continue to leisurely roll myself inside of her, delicate and quiet. Finally my lips landed on hers again. The kiss which begins slow and loving swiftly shifts into something far more passionate and almost desperate, met enthusiastically by Ana. I pick up the pace and she responds, arching her back away from the bed and moaning softly.

I shift my weight onto one forearm, so that my other hand could sneak down between our bodies to rub her clit. Ana cries out immediately with suddenly increased urgency. She begins to softly and breathlessly say my name along with 'Oh God' every so often, and I can feel her tighten as she nears her end and tries to hold on. As I approached the edge my hips started to lose some of their rhythm. As I groan out her name, if finally puts her over the edge. She pushes her body somehow closer to mine, clinging to me as though her life depends on it. As she orgasms she makes no noise, but throws back her head and opens her mouth, as though crying out silently. The sheer sight of her like that coupled with her walls pressing in on me is enough to throw me over the edge after her, and I come with a low groan of her name.

We lie there for a moment before I pull out of her, discarding the condom before pulling her in to my arms.

"Well that was way more fun than watching another movie." she says with a light laugh, still a little breathless. I have to agree.

We speak for a little while about not a lot, and after a while she wanders in to the kitchen to make us both drinks, me a decaf coffee, tea for herself. We sit in her bed. She reads for a while, and I'm content just to lie with my head in her lap as she strokes my hair lazily with her free hand when she's not using it to hold her mug. Before bed she takes off for a quick shower and I stay put, reading pieces of her book, Oranges are Not the Only Fruit. It's actually pretty good. From what I've heard of her, the mother in it seems a lot like Ana's mother. I wonder if that's why she likes it.

The last thing I learn about Ana that night is that she showers to the song Kiss with a Fist by Florence and the Machine three times exactly, which is definitely disturbing. Not the routine, the song itself.

It's only when she comes back to bed that I tell her the news I've been carrying around all day. It wasn't a secret, I just wasn't sure I wanted to vocalise it. No matter what it might be, everything becomes more real when said aloud.

Mia is moving out. She told me after Ana left; that's why she came back early. She wasn't planning on telling me, but now she knows I have Ana now and decided she didn't want to keep it a secret. I already had a feeling she might be, and I don't know how she was planning on keeping it quiet being as she talks all the time and has never been capable of keeping a secret in her life, but I'm glad she told me rather than me finding out for definite on my own. It's better this way.

I'm not sure whether I'm pleased or not. I think I am, although it will be quiet without her in the house. I need my own space, and now I'm with Ana we're going to want privacy, something that would be next to impossible with Mia hanging around all the time, as was demonstrated this morning.

Still, if she stayed with me I could just spend time at Ana's so it's not as if privacy would have been impossible. It's probably time for her to grow up and live without familial interference.

"She's right though. You have me now. You won't be lonely when she's gone." The silent implication is of course that now she has me, she doesn't have to be lonely either. I'm doing my best to make sure that she never will be again.


	19. Chapter 19

**ANA**

I decide quickly that waking up next to Christian is one of my favourite things. He's still gorgeous asleep with his general handsomeness and amazing body – there's definitely perks to dating someone who does manual labour and lifts heavy arts for cars all day - but he looks adorable with messed up hair and a perfectly contented expression on his face.

I could get used to this sight.

He wakes not long after me and opens his eyes, looking dazed for a minute as he tries to remember where he is. By this point I'm reading, my go to activity when I'm doing nothing else, so luckily he doesn't wake up to me just staring at him like I'm insane. Plus, even if I was fine with looking like that, I'm falling in love with this book. It's hilarious, and the mother in it is exactly like mine.

"Good morning." I say cheerfully. I'm something of a morning person, and besides, I had a great night's sleep last night. "You want anything to eat?"

"Yeah, whatever you have. And a black coffee." He stills sounds exhausted.

"Are you working today?" I ask. I know he had a few days off after Christmas, but that he was back not long after New Year. He nods. "I'll make pancakes then."

I get out of bed and steal his shirt from off the floor. It's always been a dream of mine to have a boyfriend whose shirt I can wear in the morning. I allowed so few of the others to stay over here, and made as many excuses as possible so I didn't have to have sex with them that it's never really been an option before. It wasn't that I didn't like the sex, some of them were actually pretty good in bed, though admittedly Christian blows them all out of the water, it was more that I didn't feel particularly close to them and definitely didn't want them in my space making it untidy. Even with now with Christian I don't like the idea of clothes strewn across my room, but I'll deal with that after breakfast, something I never would have been able to resolve myself to doing if it was anyone else. Baby steps, I suppose.

While I cook I put on some music Christian likes from my collection, and that plus the smell of the food is enough to lure him out from my room, pants on but shirtless on account of it having been stolen by me. He doesn't seem to mind that I've taken it. I try to teach him to flip them which ends with one on the floor. I don't have the restraint to leave it while I finish cooking, so I clean it up quickly before continuing.

"Sorry to dine and dash, sweetheart, but I need to change before work." he tells me apologetically. It's a shame he has to work; I would have liked to spend the day with him, maybe taken him to lunch or dinner, but I suppose that will have to wait. If I had a real job he'd be in the same boat. As it happens, most of my work takes place around two in the morning, so he isn't.

"That's okay. You could keep a change of clothes or two around here, you know, for staying over in the future." I offer.

"Good idea. For now though I will need my shirt back." I stand up and take it off quickly, handing it to him, leaving myself in the nude. I keep my apartment freezing, always preferring to be too cold than too hot, but facing the cold naked is worth it for the shocked, animalistic look that appears on his face. "Well that's just unfair."

"What?" I ask innocently. "You asked for your shirt back."

"Touché. Perhaps next time I ask I'll be more specific about how I want it back."

"Don't pretend you're not taking full advantage of the view."

I kiss him goodbye and let him see himself out as I go in to my room to put something on. My phone rings as I'm tidying up my room, and as I answer I balance it between my head and my shoulder, trying to straighten out the sheet. I assume it's Christian, having forgotten something or Mia asking why her brother didn't come home last night, although I think he texted her at some point to say he was staying over and remind her to lock up, something he told me she frequently forgets to do, and one of many reasons he is worried about her living alone.

"Hello?"

"Ana!" It's Kate, neither of them, and it's unfair, but I am slightly disappointed that it's her and not one of the others.

"Hey Kate! Is everything okay?" Half the time she only calls me because she's having some crisis about what outfit to wear to some occasion I've pretended to forget about so I don't have to attend.

"Of course! But we're all coming to yours for dinner." Okay, I pretend to forget engagements to avoid them, but I never actually do, yet I don't remember this. When I voice this to Kate she laughs heartily. "I know, but we all decided to come over and cheer you up. We figured you must be down because you left my part so early, but we didn't want to bother you yesterday in case you were having one of your bed days."

"I don't really have anything to cook for you…" And I kind of wanted to invite my boyfriend round again. Kate laughs again.

"I'll send my chef round, we'll have a proper meal, don't worry. Just say yes, we all want to see you." That makes me feel guilty for not being excited that they want to come round. In the end they're my friends, and I should be pleased to see them and glad that I have friends who like to check in on me, even if it is in a slightly imposing type of way.

"Of course. I can't wait to see you all." It's a lie, but it feels like a kind one.

"We'll be round at six. Wear something pretty!"

At least this gives me an opportunity to tell them all about Christian in one go and not have to go over it separately five times.

I know what the general consensus will be, that they don't care what makes me happy, he doesn't have a private plane therefore he's not worth my time. I dislike confronting people but I will defend him to the bitter end. I won't just sit there and let them talk shit about him, I'm passive, not a complete pushover.

Kate's staff arrive at about two, and I realise gleefully that, like last time they were over, they'll probably clean my kitchen brilliantly for me. She sends two chefs, a waiter, and one girl who, when asked by me what her job is smiles and says 'I'm creating the ambiance'. This entails setting up my dining room, lighting a few candles, and selecting the perfect music. As far as I can tell, she has an easier job than I do, and that's saying something.

The others all arrive together, right on time. I'm greeted with hugs, flowers, and a bottle of expensive wine from Kate which will apparently compliment the meal 'fabulously'.

It feels needy and slightly pathetic, but the more time I spend around the others, the more I miss having Christian around instead. He's so much more grounded than any of my other friends.

Dinner goes off without a hitch, and the biggest drama is Maria and whether she'll be flying to Paris or Milan to have her wedding gown made up. Kate arranges that whichever, she'll go with her, there's no point on them taking two trips after all. They all look at me pityingly through this discussion, poor Ana with no-one to marry, apart from Isobel, because as far as she knows I'm still stuck in a spiral of unrequited affection. I meant to call her and tell her the good news, but I kind of forgot in all my excitement.

"You'll find someone soon." Kate assures me, and as such, the perfect opportunity presents itself.

"Well actually, I wanted to say something along those lines." The all look moderately interested, apart from Isobel who looks overjoyed, apparently having already worked out what I'm about to announce. I meet her eyes for a second and she looks at me encouragingly. At least if they all have a huge problem with Christian I know she doesn't, and frankly if they're more concerned with my reputation than my happiness then I can stand to lose them and replace them with people who aren't.

"Ana!" Jeanette exclaims. "Who is he?"

"His name is Christian, we've been friends for a couple of months. That's why I left your party early, to go to his house and see him because I hadn't the whole time we were away."

"He was free on New Year's Eve? Who in our circle is free on the busiest party night of the year?" Kate asks. I'm amazed at the priorities.

"Christian's not really in our social circle." Or any. "He's a mechanic, he lives pretty close, and I really like him." Of all the shocked looks, Kate is definitely the one who looks the most disgusted and concerned by this.

"A mechanic?" she asks, looking genuinely horrified, all the others stunned in to silence.

"Yes. He is."

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"Oh shut up Kate, of course she isn't. Can't you stop being a judgemental bitch for once in your life and look at how happy she clearly is, and how you're all ruining it because she had to gear up to tell you because she was worried you might look down on her. You're all too obtuse to have realised how miserable she was with Robert, but the last couple of months she's known him she's been so improved, and they weren't even together then."

"You knew about this!" Kate sounds ridiculously accusatory.

"Yes, because she couldn't talk to anyone else. She knew you'd react exactly like this, I mean, it's exactly what you did to me so why wouldn't you?" I know Isobel is on the verge of screaming at her, so I step in to relieve her.

"Thanks, Isobel, but I can take it from here." Kate waits with one eyebrow raised and her arms folded across her chest. "It's not your choice who I date. It's mine, and I'm done with dating rich men who I'm only with because they provide some security. That is not what I want any more. I want to be with someone who makes me happy, who makes me laugh, who I can actually stand to spend time with and who helps me rather than pretending I don't come with issues and trying his best to ignore them. I was miserable with Robert, that's why I broke up with him, and Christian helped me to see that was what I needed to do. He's amazing and sweet and loving, and if you don't care about any of that because he might not be able to fly me somewhere in Europe at the drop of a hat, or because he can't treat me to dinner out at a new extortionate restaurant every day, then I don't care, and I don't want you around."

Everyone is silent for a moment, even Isobel who's on my side in all this. I don't think any of them have ever heard me so passionate about anything, and even though I babble at times about things, I've never said quite that much quite that loudly in one go.

I don't care. I'm not letting them say a single bad thing about Christian and then allowing them to get away with it.

He means far too much to me for that to be okay.

"He's not good enough for you." Maria cuts in.

"Until you meet him, you don't get an opinion on that. Robert, who didn't care about how I felt or what I wanted, he wasn't good enough for me, and that's why I ended things. If anything, I am not good enough for Christian, not the other way around."

"This is a huge mistake, Ana. And you'll come running back to us when this goes wrong in a month or so." Kate stands as she finishes speaking, and all the others follow suite other than Isobel. They all look at her expectantly, and she laughs and shakes her head.

"Oh, suddenly I'm not ostracised anymore? It's amazing how flippant you all are. Sorry to disappoint when you've been so forgiving, but I'm on Ana's side."

Kate says nothing else, just huffs in disgust and leads the others out in a long line after her, summoning her staff to go too. I can't help laughing once they've left and lying back on the sofa exhaustedly.

"Well, that actually went better than I thought it was going to." I tell her.

"No-one died, which was how I envisioned it, so yeah, it could have been worse." She looks at me and smiles gently. "Don't let them make you regret being with him. I mean it, I've never seen you as happy as you've been the last couple of months with him, and that was even with the weight of thinking that you were never going to be more than friends. He's done wonders for you, and anyone who makes you happy has my full support."

"Thank you. That means so much to me." I should have done the same for her when it was her decision they were all picking apart and judging.

"I know. I'll make us both some tea now, yeah?" I grin and nod, thankful she's still here.


	20. Chapter 20

**CHRISTIAN**

"Ana, they've met you already, they're not going to hate you."

We're in the car on the way to dinner with my parents at their house. We've been together just under three weeks now and I told my parents a few days ago, once I was a hundred percent sure this was going to be a permanent thing. They were both delighted, my mother almost more so who cried and began to give me advice for proposing to her. I didn't have the heart to tell her she might be jumping the gun a little on that.

After a fairly sharp discussion with Elliot I managed to convince him to come round. Mom is of course delighted that he'll be there. I think between that and Ana she might keel over from excitement before we even arrive.

She gives me an irritated look and goes back to playing with her necklace. She usually bites her lip when she's nervous like this, but she spent so long getting her make-up perfect before we left that she's trying very hard not to do that. I tried to explain several time while she was getting ready that my parents had met her already as had Mia, and Elliot probably wouldn't grill her any more than Mia did when they met, but apparently it's different now we're dating. I have no idea why, but it seems important to her, so I'm trying to humour her while simultaneously reassuring her that it really doesn't matter. This is proving to be more difficult than first estimated.

"They might! They might think I was a fine friend for you, but girlfriend, oh no, definitely not, she's not girlfriend material. It's very important that they see me as being good enough for you."

"My parents love you, Mia loves you, and honestly none of us give a fuck what Elliot thinks, so that doesn't matter. They haven't invited you to judge you, they just want to see you again and get to know you some more."

"Okay, that makes me feel a little better." she says with a wide smile spreading over her lips, laying her hand on my knee for a moment.

"Hello!" my mother greets us excitedly when we arrive at her door. She manages to smile even wider when she sees my arm around Ana. "Oh I didn't quite believe it until now! Come in you two, Mia and Elliot are already here."

"Hang on," I say as we're walking in. "Me telling you wasn't enough for you to believe me."

"Like it would be the first time you made up a girlfriend." Ana laughs loudly and I give Mom a warning look which she just waves off.

"I was fifteen!"

"Amazing." Ana says, grinning.

"I take it back, bringing you here was a terrible idea, they know too many bad things about me. Let's leave before the baby pictures come out." She kisses me on the cheek and rolls her eyes at me.

"First of all, I need to see baby pictures, I bet they're adorable. Second, I'm just starting to have a good time, do not make me leave as soon as I get comfortable when you forced me to come in the first place. Thirdly, I promise not to hold anything they say against you."

"You're the best."

"I know."

We walk in to the front room where Elliot is sat with Laura who is trying to explain to him where New Zealand is to no avail. He seems continuingly confused by the concept of just below Australia because he seems to think Australia is Antarctica. I really have no idea how I could be related to someone this dumb, and even less of an idea how my science genius sister could be.

"Ana, this is my brother Elliot and his wife Laura, you two, this is my girlfriend Ana." She smiles in the same soft way she does every time I call her that, the same look I wear when she calls me her boyfriend.

"Hey, it's great to meet you both." Ana says brightly.

Laura gets up immediately and hugs Ana. Elliot stays sitting and gives her a fist bump, which seems to momentarily fluster her. I highly doubt many people in her typical circle greet each other with fist bumps, especially not on their first meeting. She obliges, and Elliot looks delighted.

"You're definitely hotter up close." Ana blushes and Laura and I give him the same annoyed and disappointed look. "What?" he asks, looking genuinely oblivious as to why this might irritate us both. "I was paying her a compliment." Laura sighs and shakes her head.

"I can only apologise for him." she says to Ana.

"It's fine, I've met people a lot more tactless than him."

"Poor you." Laura says with a wink, sitting back down beside her husband. I lead Ana to sit with me on the other sofa.

"Where's Mia?" I ask them.

"Mom was so excited at you bringing your girlfriend, she implored Mia to do the same, so after we arrived here she took our car and went to get her. Mom said since they're moving in together, Mia owes it to her to bring her home." Ana looks relieved that some of the attention will be off her.

I know that Ana has already met Mia's girlfriend when the three of them went to lunch last week. I quizzed her about it when I saw her later that evening, and she seemed to have liked her quite a lot. Her name is Samara, though she goes by Sam. She's a fashion designer in the making and works under someone famous that Ana knows personally. She's very exuberant, but no more so than Mia, and has travelled a lot of interesting places that Ana has been to as well. Ana told me a lot more about her than Mia bothered to, I think she wanted to keep her away from the family as long as possible.

About five minutes later, as Laura pegs Ana is an author and realises that she's read her book and begins grilling her for details about the sequel, Mia and Sam arrive. Ana gets up and greets Sam like an old friend, and immediately the girl relaxes realising she has an ally who is in a similar position to her. She looks a couple of years older than Mia, possibly closer to my age than hers. She has gorgeous black skin, hair shaved close to her head, and large brown eyes which are locked on Mia most of the time. Mia introduces her quickly and goes in to the kitchen to fetch them both drinks. Ana takes over looking after Sam, taking her hand and taking her to sit between her and Laura. Laura asks her a few questions about her work and she seems to open up immediately.

"She seems okay." Elliot says to me quietly.

"Yeah, she does. I'm still giving her the same talk I'd give any guy that wanted to live with our little sister though."

"Minus the bit about castrating them if they get her pregnant."

"Obviously."

"So Sam, how long have you two been together?" Elliot asks. She doesn't answer for a moment, but looks less like she's reluctant to give us an answer and more like she's simply trying to remember how long it has been.

"About six months maybe?" she answers.

"And those four months before that when we were just hooking up." Mia says as she comes in. Ana and Laura try to hide their smirks in their hands as Elliot and I look shocked. "Don't forget that, babe."

"I thought we weren't going to tell your family about that."

"You only broke up with Jason seven months ago." I say as I put the timeline together. Sam sighs and puts her head in her hands and Mia just laughs.

"Carpe diem?" she says, pulling a face. "Am I using that right, Ana?"

"Unfortunately yes."

"He was an idiot, and he was terrible in bed." I'm very glad Mom and Dad are in the kitchen while this discussion is going on. I really hope they can't hear us from here.

"Yeah, that's way too much information, I'm going out for a smoke." Elliot says, standing up. Laura sighs.

"You're meant to be quitting."

"I'll start tomorrow."

"Mind if I join you?" Sam asks. Her tone is confident, like she already feels comfortable around us, which is excellent. I want her to feel comfortable, because hopefully if she does, Ana will too, and it wouldn't hurt to have her around more often when Ana's here since they seem to be pretty close already.

"Not at all. Christian, want to come too?" Elliot's obviously angling for me to use this opportunity as the 'don't hurt our sister' talk. I nod and get up.

"You smoke?" Ana mouths to me as I leave. I shake my head.

"I'll tell you later." I mouth back to her, and she rolls her eyes before re-joining the conversation, and I hurry after Elliot and Sam.

"Yo, so we have this talk with all Mia's… people, the girls too because we're not sexist and girls can be fucking mean, right bro?" Elliot starts, looking to me for support. Sam smiles gently, looking like she knows exactly where this conversation is going, impressive with how inarticulate Elliot is, but is going to allow us to say our peace anyway.

"Just treat our little sister well, make her happy, and we'll all be cool. You seem genuinely great so we probably didn't even need to have this conversation." In fact, given how their relationship began it's probably Mia we should be having this chat with, although she has never been invested enough in one of her relationships to move in with them, so hopefully this is a good sign that she might be over her commitment issues. Elliot was a lot like her before he met Laura.

"I will. I really love Mia, I've never moved in with anyone before, and this isn't a decision I take lightly, I promise. I've never even met a girlfriend's parents before, but she's very difficult to say no to."

"We're cool then." Elliot tell her and holds his fist out. Unlike Ana, she bumps it without any hesitation before lighting up a cigarette. I decide to go back inside now, she and Elliot look fine together and I can't stand getting the smell of smoke on my clothes.

Outside though seems better than inside, where Mia had Ana and Laura up, teaching them the dance routine she invented with some people she met on holiday. When the other two come in we all stand watching them in the doorway for a little while before they wave us in, and it turns in to a half hour dance party before Mom and Dad call us in for dinner.

"Having a good time, sweetheart?" I ask Ana quietly as we sit down. She nods vigorously.

"The best. You're right, I was getting totally worked up about nothing. Your family are great. I just hope you know to expect nothing along these lines when you meet mine, because that's just going to involve a lot of screaming, and my mother may faint and disown me. Bonus points if she somehow does them both at the same time."

"Next weekend is going to be awful." I promised that once we got to the one month mark we'd get the out of the way, although I think she might be happy if we waited a couple of years before we told them. Not her Dad, he's not the issue apparently, although I hardly think one talk after she left Robert counts as him being a particularly supportive parent, although she seems to think he can do no wrong now.

"I'll take you for a nice meal afterwards." she promises with a small laugh. "And once it's out of the way, she'll never want to see you again, so that'll be it."

"Until the wedding. I feel like we should invite them to that."

"It's nice to know that you're already planning our wedding guest list. Some people would call that presumptuous, you know."

"And are you one of those people?"

"Of course not. I think it's sweet. It's always nice to plan in advance."

I kiss her softly and she giggles and says something quietly to Sam as Mom lays our plates down in front of us. The whole time I'm eating I have this warm feeling inside me, and I'm trying not to smile too much. I may be overthinking what she said, but every time she looks at me and smiles knowingly, I know she's thinking the same.

She fully expects we'll be together long enough to get married, and that's amazing.


	21. Chapter 21

**ANA**

I don't even switch the lights on in my apartment when I get home, I just go straight in to my bedroom and lie down on the bed. I stare at the ceiling, but I'm not crying. I did enough of that at my parents' house. It was the least dignified I could have been.

Yes, I told them and bought him to meet them, Yes, it went horribly. It's hardly shocking.

The moment Christian and I left I thought of a million things I wanted to go back in to that house and say, about how Christian was a better person than any of the other men I'd dated who they valued so highly just because they had money, how at least if we had a child we'd take the time to raise it ourselves instead of pawning it off on a nanny for its entire childhood like they did, how if I married Christian at least I wouldn't hate my husband and I might stand a chance of being happy, but I didn't. For one thing my mother didn't let me. Every time I opened my mouth she just started screaming again, and even if she hadn't I don't think I would have had the courage to say anything.

"Don't let her get to you, sweetheart." Christian says. He doesn't switch the light on either, he just comes and lies beside me, wrapping his arms around me. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. No matter what she says, she's still my mother, and I still wish she could support my decisions rather than incessantly judging me and belittling them. And she was so awful to you…"

"We knew she would be. It doesn't faze me. I just don't understand how you could be related to someone like that." Nothing I told him could have prepared him for that. A solid ten minutes was spent just screaming at him for corrupting me and filling my head with ideas that I could date who I want, that it was my decision. It was almost laughable. When it looked like she wasn't going to stop, we just looked at each other, stood up and walked out. I know she's too proud to chase after the car screaming so we were able to make a speedy getaway without having to deal with her for any longer.

"Neither do I sometimes."

"Your father wasn't much help either."

I kept expecting him to jump in on my side, surely after everything he said after I left Robert and while we were in Aspen he would, but he just sat there drinking and looking like the whole thing was irritating him. I felt like saying that it would be over a lot sooner if he jumped in on my side, but I didn't.

"I should have said something to him… To both of them. While I still had the chance. I'm such a fucking mouse. I hate it."

"Honestly, seeing you with them, I'm surprised you're as open as you are. Clearly you've been brought up to suppress any emotion that might overpower the perfect image they've tried so hard to create for you. You easily could have turned out exactly like your mother, and I don't think we'd be having this conversation if that was the case."

"I think I'd dislike myself even more than you'd dislike me." I can't imagine being like Kate, being so obsessed with living like that in that immaculate, miserable lifestyle. No, I would rather never speak to my family again and be happy with Christian than leave him to please them and go back to that shell of a woman I was before I met him. I'm barely more than that now, but I've made enough of an improvement that I never want to go back.

"Do you want some tea, sweetheart?" Christian offers me after a while. I smile and sit up, wiping the tears from under my eyes.

"You know how to make everything better."

Deciding that moping around for the rest of the evening is stupid given how inevitable what I'm upset about was, and that if I did anyway it would be a waste of a perfectly salvageable evening with my amazing boyfriend, I get up from the bed and walk out to the kitchen and put my arms around him from behind.

"Thank you for not getting scared off by all that." I say quietly before letting him go. He turns and smiles at me, taking both my hands in his.

"It's going to take a lot more than that."

We take our drinks in to the front room and stick a movie on in the background, not focussing on it in favour of starting talking about Sam instead. I really don't want to talk about what just happens, and I get the sense that he doesn't either. I'm happy to leave it alone.

I get up to answer the door when we're interrupted by a knock. I expect Mia looking for Christian, Kate with some disaster though she usually calls first, or my neighbour asking if I can look after her cat again, but instead I see the tall, imposing figure of my father standing in the doorway, looking solemn.

"Hello." I say, suddenly a lump forming in my throat. He smiles faintly, which makes him look no friendlier. "Come in." I offer, not knowing what else to do. As soon as he sees him Christian stands up for no reason and flashes me a worried look. I just shrug my shoulders and shut the door behind him, watching as he walks slowly in to my front room, examining his surroundings and looking unimpressed by what he finds.

"I haven't been here before, have I?" he asks me. I shake my head.

"No, I don't think so. You've waited outside for Mom." He nods and picks up a family picture of the three of us, looking nostalgic for a millisecond before he puts it back down with a thud that seems to echo in the silence. "Why are you here? Did she send you? Is she outside?"

"Your mother isn't here, nor does she know I am. I'd prefer it stay that way, Annie." I simply nod. I play awkwardly with a strand of hair. None of us makes a move to sit down.

"Why are you here?" I ask again, voice slightly more confident this time. I know Christian's looking at me, but I keep my eyes fixed on my father. I have to concentrate on not being weak. Him being here is giving me an excuse to finally say my peace to at least one of my parents, I just have to have the guts to go through with it. "Christian, could you give us a minute or two?" He looks at me, possibly gaging whether I'll be okay on my own, eventually deciding it's probably better if he leaves since this is my issue, not his. He nods and walks out my front door. He's too nice to listen at the door. He's probably going to the late night store to get us something strong and alcoholic that tastes like paint stripper.

I failed once tonight, and I refuse to fail again.

"Carla was wrong for saying what she did."

"You mean she was wrong to scream that my boyfriend was a good for nothing, penniless piece of trash and all the other stuff she was yelling about? Yeah, I kind of worked that one out on my own." I snap bitterly. "You could have said something to her at the time rather than just sitting there."

"Of course I couldn't, Anastasia, don't be ridiculous."

"Me ridiculous?" I'm fighting the urge to laugh. "I'm not the one who thinks that if you don't have a private plane you aren't worth the time of day, nor am I the one who sat by while she threatened to cut me off and never see or speak to me again just because I'm dating a guy she doesn't fully approve of. That's what's ridiculous here, not me. The pair of you are completely unbelievable. I though you at least were on my side." That's what you told me, you promised you just wanted me to be happy, and look where we are now. My father might be an imposing man in theory, but in reality he's just as scared of what my mother might do to him as I am, and is possibly even less willing to challenge her.

"I am on your side, Annie." Hell no, reverting back to the childhood nickname isn't going to help. In fact, I let that fuel me on even further. It's not like he was around to call me that frequently when I was little. He ignored me as much as he could, just like she did until I was old enough to parade around and be quiet.

"No, you aren't. If you were you wouldn't need to be here, you'd have defenced me as soon as she started, defended Christian before she screamed at him too, and you'd probably be at home fighting with Mom, telling her that I'm old enough to make my own decisions and it is not her choice who I see. You know I'm not like her; I can't forsake everything that makes me happy just to marry someone she likes who might make me miserable, but at least they can buy me twenty pounds of diamonds without it making too much of a significant dent in their bank account."

"Annie, you know how difficult she is, it was better just to leave it. It was what was best for you."

"No, it definitely wasn't! Nothing either of you has ever done has been what's best for me, and if you took your heads out of your asses and looked at me as something more than an accessory to your perfect little life then you might have seen that back when it actually mattered instead of now where I've learnt to cope on my own and don't need either of you anyway. You make this big show of being so different to Mom, of caring about me, but you're both the same."

"That's not true. I do care if you're happy."

"Then act like it! Try vocally being on my side for once, because honestly, right now if you and Mom cut me off and never see me again, I won't we sorry about it. If anything I'll be glad to get rid of you, and I hate feeling like that. You're my parents, I need one of you to be supportive and I need to feel like I'd miss you if you weren't around, because I don't and I hate that." I don't even know if I'm making sense any more, I'm too close to crying again to care, and I really don't want to cry again.

"Okay."

"What?"

"I said okay, Annie. I'll go home, tell her that if she wants to cut you off then she's got another thing coming. You're my daughter, she's not going to threaten you like that just because you're happy, and next time you come to us to share something like this I won't stand by and do nothing if she reacts like that. I'm sorry. I know I'm hardly a model father, but I am trying to be better." I suddenly find myself hugging him for the first time since I was a very young child. He's taken aback momentarily and it takes a minute to get used to it but we both relax after a while.

"I'm not asking for anything else." I say when I let go of him. He nods understandingly. "All I ever wanted was one of you to support me. Not when I do stupid things, that's different, but when I do something like picking a boyfriend based on how happy he makes me rather than how full his bank account is, I don't want to be screamed at and have to leave my old home, worrying that now he knows where I come from he might never want to see me again.

"I know. I really am sorry, Annie. He seems fine though."

"Yes, because he's amazing and luckily knows me well enough to realise I'm nothing like either of you."

"Trust me, nobody is more thankful of that fact than I am. But like I said, I'm trying. I just don't really know how to go about being a more involved parent."

"Well, you could start by coming to dinner with me sometime this week, catching up with me and listening to me and acting like you're interested even when you aren't really. We made a good job of doing that in Aspen; it's a transferable skill really, not just for on vacation."

"Sounds good. Are you free tomorrow?"

"No, I promised Christian I'd take him out to reward him for meeting Mom, but I am free the night after. Pick me up at seven?"

"Perfect."

He leaves not long after, and as I sit on the sofa I know I'm not done. I might have had it out with him, but that's like in a videogame where you have to go through the easy levels before you can complete the game. Mom is basically the giant boss at the end that it takes three months and periodic bouts of totally giving up to defeat. I will do it though. I'm a nice enough person, but I refuse to be trampled over her anymore just because we're related.

It's just a shame it took her screaming at Christian for me to see that, but better late than never I guess.

He comes back a little while later, bag full of ice cream instead of the alcohol I assumed he'd bring.

"Seems to work in the movies." he says with a shrug, and I grin at him.

No, I'm definitely not getting rid of him to keep her happy, but I knew that before tonight.


End file.
